Children of the Digital
by Debbie Dai-chan
Summary: Part Fourteen: Get a comfortable seat and popcorn, people, because this chapter is a longie. You probably want to take a couple of breaks in between. :p The Nature Children go off to talk with Holy Beasts and Oikawa and Seijamon have their moments.
1. Chosen Children, Holy Beasts, Dark Destr...

I strongly suggest that you read _'Powers of Crests' and__ 'The Friends of the Stones' before this saga__ because I won't explain everything all over like I did in the first two sagas. I only can explain what is happening NOW, not BEFORE. So if you want to be prepared for the third saga of Digimon Season 02, read them. It's your choice, darlings. ^_^_

And, no, I DO NOT own Digimon: Digital Monsters. You know about that darned disclaimer that we authors have to submit BECAUSE Toei is shaking scared stiff in its underpants that we might steal them. Please, Toei, we just love to write and draw them. We don't own them. And even if you try and sue us, the only things you will get are rotten gym socks and maggot-covered fruits. Would you like that? ^_^ I don't think so.

Anyway . . .

First of all, I want to thank you all the Digifans for supporting us Digiauthors for continuing to write marvelous stores for simply entertainment. We didn't know if there would be devoted fans that would enjoy fictions, but we did this just because we wished to show our ideas and imaginations. You know what? I have met several Digiauthors who have the pure imagination to create wonderful stories to amaze us all. You, the authors, know whom I'm talking about. ^_^

If it weren't for you all, Digifans, we wouldn't continue any stories if there is nobody to enjoy them! You, the Digifans, know _whom I'm talking about. _

I really want to thank all the Digiauthors and Digifans personally, but there would be a darn long list, so I won't do it. Instead, I will thank those dearest to me. 

**Chicobo - Ever since we first met over two years ago, you asked me to help editing your neat fictions, and I cheerfully offered. Who knows that we became good friends, though we still don't know what do we look like, anyway? ^_^;; As I promised, I used your character of Frankie in my second saga, and who knows? Frankie is becoming a favorite among some Digifans! Thank you for being my angel buddy.**

**Joseph D. Hale – let me explain who he is. He is the one who sent me tons of valuable ideas while I suffer my poor mind for twisting and eye-popping plots for this Saga. I would never think those up. He just happened to show up out of nowhere and gave me effective ideas. I never knew why he did that, but I'm grateful for his ideas. Thank you, Joey! ^_^**

Of course, who could forget my whacked sister, **Dai-chan and the cutest Digimon ever, ****Demidevimon? I would have never created Dai-chan it wasn't for the Digimon show. I felt that she is real and is currently hunting through FanFiction.Net for Koushiro-lovers so she would have her red-haired doll all to herself. *Sweatdrops* But we know it's impossible, right? ^_^ Just let her dream, all right?**

If you say that Demy is not cute, just don't say it in front of him, okay? He has a thing about being cute. *Coughs* ^_^ But if it wasn't for him, I would be still unscarred. In my spirit, that is. ^_~

I can't list ALL of you, but still, you are special in everybody's eyes!! 

But now the dedication!

Not just for the Digifans, Digiauthors, or Digireaders, but just for anybody who adores Digimon; Digital Monsters for who they are – 

I dedicate this to you.

_Thank you._

Children of the Digital: 

Part One: Chosen Children, Holy Beasts and Dark Destroyers, Oh, my!

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

Izumi Koushiro firmly knocked on the door of the Hakatas'. 

A middle-aged woman with soft blond hair that nearly shadowed her gentle face answered. Koushiro was fond of her, Cleo's mother. She was tall and lanky, but with a wise stance that also showed in her dark brown eyes. She was clad in simple summer clothes, best to keep cool for the unusually thermal day. 

"_Ohaya __gozaimasu (Good morning), Hakata-san," Koushiro spoke, bowing out of habit and tradition for the respect to his elders. "Is Cleo ready?"_

Hakata Rachel smiled back, nodding. Her voice was also mild. "_Ohayou, Izzy. She's getting ready." She then turned her head inside the living room, shouting, "Cleo, Izzy's here!"_

"Coming!" After a moment, a petite blond girl with merry jade eyes walked in, rushing to hug him. Koushiro embraced back tightly. He always liked the way her clothes seemed to match perfectly with her pale skin, a plain dark yellow sundress and sandals. She was carrying a straw hat in one of her hands. Hakata Cleo then kissed her mother on the cheek. "_Ja__ ne, Mom. I will see you later."_

"Have fun, kids," the woman called after them.

The reason Koushiro was picking Cleo was because today was the fourth anniversary of the reunion between the Old Kids. Four years had passed after Myotismon was deleted from the Real World, and the Digidestined never forgot the hardships and battles they and their Digimon Guardians suffered. The Old Kids had decided to introduce Cleo to the New Kids since she did help out a lot, although she wasn't a Digidestined. They thought it was just fair.

However, in the descending elevator, when Koushiro glanced over to his girlfriend, she was biting her lower lip, her eyes unfocused, as if she was thinking about something. At first, she seemed reluctant about letting the New Kids know about her, but last night, Taichi had talked with her about it. Taichi explained to Koushiro and Kimika that _if Cleo had this__ 'gut feeling' about the New Kids' tests, she could be still helpful in the future when the darkness again rose. He resolved to let the New Kids know that Cleo can be trusted and being relied on. The other Old Kids agreed._

Koushiro spoke gently, "Cleo, are you sure you want to do this?"

At his question, Cleo just shrugged with a half-smile. "We already agreed to do it."

Koushiro leaned against the back of the elevator, crossing his arms. "Yes, but we don't want to be forceful on you."

Cleo turned to him, chuckling, shaking her head. "No, you aren't." She lowered her eyes to the straw hat in her hands. "Tai and I talked over this, and I did agree that it's a good idea for the New Digidestined to know about me." Then her voice sounded tense, "I know I'm not a Digidestined, but I was part of your group and still am." She grinned. "We have to stick together, right?"

Koushiro smiled. He adored her wisdom. She always seemed to understand what's happening around and didn't fail to help out. Whenever the Old Kids were at their loss to explain, Cleo just appeared to help out resolving it. He grinned, affectionately squeezing her hand. "I'm glad you decided to join us. We do appreciate it."

Cleo smiled back, winking. Then she placed on her hat, shading her eyes from the scorching sun. "Come on, Red. We will be late if we don't hurry."

Roguishly, Koushiro grabbed on her arm and pulled her close, grinning impishly. "Who says we have to hurry? Let us enjoy the weather, Butterfly."

Cleo giggled, holding on her hat, and playfully gave him her favorite kind of kiss – a butterfly kiss. Then she squinted upward to the sun, her voice quiet with concern. "Though, it's unbelievably hot."

***

"It's unbelievably hot!"

Yagami Taichi chuckled amusedly as his best friend, Inoue Kimika, mumbled unhappily to herself, her hands shading over her sensitive eyes. Ever since she got her Light Power, her eyes became so sensitive in vision that she often had to wear sunglasses to protect them. Not even her shades protected her eyes enough from the bright rays.

They were sitting on a long bench together, chatting, patiently waiting for the Digidestined to show up in the favorite park where they usually had discussions and conversations about their duty to protect the two worlds. Here was where they were supposed to meet for the reunion. 

Taichi stretched his arms, smiling upward, welcoming the pleasant heat. "The heat doesn't bother me."

_"Obviously," Kimika snarled, glaring from under her hands. Taichi felt his cheeks turn red. It wasn't surprising that he had his Fire Power. The advantage allowed him to experience any temperatures of heat, even at volcanic heat, without feeling the hazards._

Kimika then smiled at his blush and checked her watch. Her voice grew annoyed, "When will they get here, anyway?"

Taichi shook his head, still half-smiling at her impatience. "Kim, we're early."

"It's HOT!" Kimika pouted. She hurriedly adjusted her sunglasses, mumbling. "We should have stayed inside where there's actually cool air."

"You never complained about the heat before."

"Your fault," Kimika now sounded wily. "I'll bet that's a part of your plans to char us with your heat."

Taichi threw his hands in resignation. "Why am I always being blamed for this?"

Kimika giggled, hugging his right arm. "Because I like it!"

The intimate friends began to laugh together, exchanging snap-backs. The six New Kids and Digimon gazed over to them from their positions on the cool grass with bewilderment. 

"What are they laughing about?" Veemon curiously questioned, cocking his head at the laughing friends. 

Yagami Hikari grinned, shrugging. "Oh, nothing. They're always being like that."

Ichijouji Ken glanced down to his watch. "They should be here soon."

"They will," Motomiya Daisuke flashed his close friend a reassuring grin. Then he crossed his legs and putted his chin on a cupped hand, looking slightly serious. "So what should we do about the keys?"

Hikari understood what he was talking about. She pushed back strands of her dusky hair and replied, "Cody called TK that he finally opened the chest. He found ten Digikeys, each one a different color."

"Really?" Wormon questioned in interest. "Did he know what are they for?"

Hikari only shrugged back. "We will see soon."

"Hey, there they come!" Taichi suddenly shouted, waving his arms wildly. Kimika and the New Kids turned and yelled out greetings to a bigger group walking toward them – Ishida Yamato, Takaishi Takeru, Hida Iori, Inoue Miyako, Kido Jyou, Kido Hisoka, Takenouchi Sora, and the new Destined Digimon, of course.

"Nice weather, ne?" Frankie cheerfully said.

"Ah, don't say it!" Kimika winced, again covering her eyes.

Laughing, the Old Kids sat together as Iori, Miyako and their Digimon seated with the New Kids.

Daisuke leaned forward to the smallest boy, grinning encouragingly, "Can we see the Digikeys, Iori-kun?"

Iori stubbornly shook his head, setting the small wooden chest he was carrying down on the grass. "Uh-uh. We promised to wait until everybody is here."

"Aw, a peek?" Daisuke begged. Iori stuck out his chin, keeping on shaking his head. There was a light playful sparkle in his emerald eyes.

Miyako giggled at Daisuke's mock pout. "It's no use, Davis. I pushed him about it, but he refused to tell."

Hikari smiled, enjoying her new friends' company. She then asked the boy, "Anyway, TK told me that there are ten Digikeys, right?"

Iori nodded back. "Right, but they don't look much like keys, but rugged rods of some kind. They also have teeth that are very unusual and patterned." He then grinned at the waiting curious faces of his friends, adding rather innocently, "I will tell you later."

"Ah!" Daisuke sighed. "Just when it gets interesting."

Then a feminine voice came out from behind, calling out a name repeatedly. She sounded thrilled. The group then saw Tachikawa Mimi in her favorite dress of pink and green rushing over the grass and wrapping her arms around Jyou. "Joe! Jyou, Jyou! I missed you, Jyou!" The group giggled as she showered tiny kisses on Jyou's face.

Jyou's face grew scarlet with heat, but he sincerely answered with a tender kiss to silence her. "I miss you, too, Petal."

In the midst of noise, Miyako glanced up at the familiar name, her face pondering. She watched Jyou and Mimi for a moment, and spoke, "Why do you call her Petal?"

Jyou blinked down to her, wondering about her question. "Oh . . . um . . ."

"That's his nickname for me," Mimi quickly answered, grinning. "Why do you ask?"

Miyako shrugged, replying, "Oh, nothing. Hey, Michael!" She waved over to the American who had arrived at the scene. In his arms, Betamon snuggled comfortably, also waving one of his fins to the Digimon.

Michael Baine sat down cross-legged beside Miyako, smiling at his new friends. "How're things doing?"

Iori was sitting beside him, and he leaned to his side. "Michael, I opened the chest and found ten Digikeys."

Michael arched his eyebrows and quietly said, "So what should we do about them?"

"Guys, don't worry about them," Takeru reassured the New Kids. "It's our reunion, our time to have fun."

Hikari nodded in agreement. "Yeah, he's right. Michael, I'm glad you came to join us."

The blond gave her a charming grin. "I know I have my own Digidestined group in New York, but I feel bonded with you guys. Thanks for inviting me to the reunion."

"_Do __itashimashite!" the Japanese Digidestined spoke with grins._

Michael then shook his head, wincing at the strange, accented language he wasn't familiar with. "What does that mean?"

"You're welcome!"

"Oh."

Ken craned his neck to scan above the heads. "Hmm, I wonder where is Izzy?"

The rest also gazed around, wondering where the redhead could be. Hikari called to her brother, "Tai, do you know where Izzy could be?"

Taichi stopped from chatting. "He's picking Cleo up."

"Who's Cleo?" Iori asked.

"His _kanojo," Takeru replied._

_"Ka-kanojo?" Michael mispronounced the word with puzzlement._

The New Kids and the Digimon snickered at his stammers. Miyako rescued him by saying, "It means '_Girlfriend'."_

Michael wrinkled his face with unhappiness. "I'll never be able to pronounce Japanese correctly."

"Don't worry," Daisuke said. "We know English better than you know Japanese." Michael chuckled weakly at that.

"_Ohayou, __minna-san! __Goman __nasai that we are late!"_

Koushiro was strolling near the group with a blond girl of his age, both waving greetings. The girl's eyes immediately enchanted the New Kids. The pale jade eyes held secrets and mysteries that were waiting to be solved. The voice of Koushiro broke the trance as he introduced the girl, "Guys, I would like to greet Hakata Cleo. She already knows about you, and she is part of our group for four years."

"You mean she's really a Digidestined?!" Daisuke burst out, tawny eyes wide.

The girl smiled, shaking her head. "No, I'm not a Digidestined at all. I don't have a Digivice like yours, but I do have a Digimon Guardian." She gazed down to the young Digimon, and her face held pensiveness. "It's quite a while since I saw a Digimon."

Taichi then said, "We didn't tell you about her because she wasn't exactly involved, but she did help out before."

The New Kids introduced themselves to Cleo as the Old Kids joined to sit in a large circle on the grass, staying under a towering tree's shade. 

"Well, shall we begin?" Koushiro questioned.

"Wait," Ken spoke almost shyly. "I have a question to ask." His indigo eyes met each of the Digidestined, mostly to Kimika, his 'Protector'. The Old Kids remained patient, waiting, as the New Kids curiously watched him. Ken's face turned light red, and he quietly spoke, "I know it's a while since I joined your group, but this still bothered me because I didn't ask you about it. One of my friends showed me that I never asked you for forgiveness for what I've done to you and the Digimon." His voice grew thick. "She told me that I still suffer because I didn't ask you that. So, now, I ask you if I would have the honor to have your forgiveness for cleansing my past so I could start anew."

He looked up and was surprised to see everybody supporting gentle and understanding smiles at him. He watched as Taichi glanced over to the Old Kids, seeming to question mentally to them. Then the dusky-haired leader spoke, his voice deep with sincerity and appreciation. 

"Ken, we forgave you a long time ago when you saved Cody from Thundermon. Davis was the first one to notice your kindness and wanted to help you, and Kim was the next one who reminded you of your role as a Digidestined. I know some of us took a while to forgive you in every respect, but you helped us so much that we don't think there's any better Digidestined than you. We know that you didn't ask for forgiveness, and we gave you forgiveness anyway." Taichi then dropped his voice. "But we are glad you did ask."

Ken slightly smiled his kind smile, his spirit feeling heavily calmed.

Taichi nodded to end the conversation, and said, "Let us continue on. We already know that there was a reading in the Digiworld that Michael had received, and the New Kids came with him to check it out. Yolei, why won't you fill the others in about your journey?"

It was a wonder why Taichi chose Miyako to tell the details, but unknown to the others, he had already seen something special in her and began to give her more attention about guidance.

"_Arigato, Tai-san," Miyako thanked him, and then started. "We went to a dark-looking building, more like a mansion. There, we met Sanimon, the Guardian of the Digidestined."_

She had noticed that Hikari had a slight haunted pain reflecting in her eyes, but another Digidestined had the same expression – Yamato with a bitter frown as he stared at her as if he was making sure she was telling the truth.

"Sanimon?" Jyou was saying in puzzlement. "But she was -"

Taichi cut him off with a slash of his hand. "Please, let us be quiet and listen. We will explain about it, okay? Go ahead, Yolei."

Miyako entwined her hands together, continuing, "Sanimon said that we had to be tested for our powerful virtues to prove our worthiness."

"Is that so?" Yamato voiced, his steel-blue eyes dark. "What are your virtues?"

"My virtue is Purity," Miyako replied.

"Mine is Loyalty," Daisuke grinned.

"Wisdom," Iori quietly spoke.

Ken smiled. "I already know my virtue is Kindness."

"How are you, Michael?" Sora asked the American.

"I wasn't being tested with them, but I did have one some time ago. My virtue is Mercy."

"They are excellent virtues," Mimi admired.

"How did you get tested?" Frankie questioned.

Miyako smiled with such slyness that only she knew the meaning to the answer. "By our Protectors."

The Old Kids were puzzled at that. "We did ask them about the Protectors," Kimika was saying, "but they said that we already know."

"We all passed the tests, and Sanimon gave us a chest with the Digital Keys," Miyako added with a nod toward the small chest beside Iori. "She said the Digikeys are like crests and tags, each one with a power to control the Digiworld's powers. Not even she could understand the powers. Cody, show them."

Iori gingerly opened the chest lid and, one by one, he took out the Digital Keys onto the ground. Each one was crooked and rugged in a way or other, but they did have the vague appearances of keys, along with teeth and handles. They were in the colors of the rainbow, all shades except pink and yellow - red, orange, green, blue, violet, black, grey, and white. The kids and Digimon leaned forward, eyes curiously inspecting the keys.

"They have strange symbols that I don't recognize," the ten-years-old boy mentioned.

Sora gasped softly, noticing something, "Why, the symbols are our crest symbols!" She reached to hold on a jagged key that was the perfect color of fresh blood. On the side of the handle, there was a tiny picture of a hollowed heart, in paler red, barely seen. She spoke the name that appeared suddenly in her mind, "The Key of Love."

Jyou nodded in agreement, his dusky eyes taking the details of the grey-black symbol of a four-rayed cross on the crooked key that seemed to have the night cloaked around it. "The Key of Reliability."

"They look really rugged to me," Cleo murmured to herself as she gazed at the vivid violet Key of Knowledge in her boyfriend's hand.

Iori nodded to her words. "Yes, but do you see the pattern in the teeth?"

"Yeah, I do!" Frankie chuckled incredulously as he bent over to show his brother his Key of Soul. "Look at this – the key's teeth look like icicles!" Sure enough, the snow-white key had teeth shaped as thick icicles, each one identical.

Mimi raised her Key of Sincerity upward to scan the teeth. "Get this – the teeth are actually leaves." She then looked closer. "Aspen leaves, more likely."

"Guys, I want to show you something," Iori said. "May I?" He then took the Keys of Knowledge and Reliability and spent a moment working on them, his face concentrated. He did something unbelievable; he successfully linked the Keys together, becoming one larger Key by clicking the teeth together as if were perfectly fitted. Although, the teeth were completely different, the shapes of morning dewdrops and lightning bolts.

"How is this possible?" Kimika murmured the same question the kids wondered.

"Armadillomon was playing with them, and somehow, he putted these keys together," the boy said, winking down to his grinning Digimon. "We tried to link them all, but only six can – Courage and Friendship, Love and Sincerity, and Knowledge and Reliability."

Cleo was listening quietly, her jade eyes focused on the linked Keys. She spoke almost to herself, "Hmm, maybe the keys are not really ours."

The group gazed their eyes from the keys to the blond. She suddenly felt the weight of the gazes on her, and her cheeks turned pink. She quickly explained, "I mean what Cody did with the keys made me think – what if they are the New Kids' keys, not ours? Cody has the Digieggs of Knowledge and Reliability, right? Then it must mean the keys of those virtues are meant for him. Likewise for Davis and Yolei."

"You think?" Mimi said.

"It's just a wild guess."

"It would be worth a try," Koushiro said, and then he grinned proudly at the New Kids. "See, she does help out."

"What do you think?" Taichi asked the older kids of their opinions. The New Kids already knew that the Old Kids had worked almost perfectly as a team despite the differences in ideas and points and views. It was impressive to see how they reacted together without having to say one word. The older kids nodded in concurrence.

Daisuke received the fiery orange Key of Courage with flames as its teeth and the midnight blue Key of Friendship with yin-yang symbols as its teeth from his Protectors. Miyako received the blood red Key of Love with tiny tornados as its teeth and the jade green Key of Sincerity with aspen leaves as its teeth from her Protectors. Iori kept the vivid violet Key of Knowledge with lightning bolts as its teeth and the night black Key of Reliability with dewdrops as its teeth.

Kimika placed the pearly silver Key of Empathy with crescent moons as its teeth in Ken's hand. "Ken-kun, would you keep the key for me? I think it's suitable for you."

Ken smiled, closing his hand protectively over the key. "_Arigato, Kimi-san."_

"Here, Michael. It's yours now," Frankie said, casually tossing the snow white Key of Soul with icicles as its teeth over to the blond, who quickly caught it and flashed back a thankful grin.

Daisuke scanned his keys curiously. "I wonder what's the reason of this?"

Yamato shrugged, answering the question that everybody was thinking. "Someday, we will find out."

'So, any more news?" Jyou questioned.

Miyako shook her head to the question.

"Alright! Let the reunion begin!" Veemon chirped out. Everybody stood up, starting to chatter about the events ahead for the day. However, Taichi noticed the serious reminder on his sister's face and spoke to get their attention. "Why won't you go ahead to the carnival, guys? We Old Kids want to talk a bit more." 

The older kids appeared puzzled at his suggestion, all but Koushiro and Kimika, who glanced to each other.

"We will wait at the bus stop," Daisuke said. The New Kids and Digimon went ahead, Hikari walking behind.

The older kids waited, eyes on Taichi and Takeru, who watched the smaller group for a while, making sure they won't eavesdrop, and Taichi spoke. "Ok, this's important. TK told us about Sanimon before, and I think you should listen to him."

Takeru turned to them, saying, "I want to say that we don't have to worry about Sanimon. She's really changed. She said that she was given a second chance as a Guardian, and I believed her. I think we can trust her."

Cleo leaned to Koushiro, whispering, "Was that Sanimon the one Kari fought?"

Koushiro answered with a solemn nod.

"What did she tell you, TK?" Mimi asked.

Takeru crossed his arms, sounding uncertain, "She said that there will be a powerful ally that will be valuable to us. Plus, she said that there's a greater evil out there."

Frankie blinked uneasily. "Maybe that's what we are feeling recently." The Inner Circle shifted apprehensively, remembering the eerie feeling that was nagging persistently in the back of their minds.

Taichi eyed them, noticing the body language. He wondered what this feeling that made them so uneasy was. He sighed, turning to Takeru, "Is this evil greater than Myalomyotismon?"

"Yes, in fact, it's the Final Evil."

The teens exchanged unhappy gazes and nervous whispers. They knew that they were chosen to protect and fight for the peace of the two worlds, but they were growing drained of the battles. They knew it will never be over, and if Takeru said that there was actually a final evil out there, then they will be needed again.

Taichi frowned deeply, his tan eyes hardened. "TK, are you serious?"

Takeru answered back with anxiety, "Sanimon was really serious to me."

"Okay_, arigato for telling us."_

Takeru departed, his face still supporting the haunted worry. Taichi gazed to each of his close friends, the people that he trusted with his life, the people that he was destined to fight with. He looked at the Inner Circle, saying, "If the Final Evil, whatever it is, is what you feel from, then the battle for our peace is still not over."

Yamato muttered, "I began to doubt that it's a battle at all, Tai. It sounds like a war."

Kimika wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a bit, despite the heat. "I hope the war will be over soon."

"Yes, let us hope," Jyou agreed, grimacing.

"And, hope that the Digikeys will help us," Sora reminded them of the gift, trusting that the Guardian they had fought before was telling the truth.

The group silently listened to Taichi, their destined leader, as he prompted them, "Keep in mind, all of the discussion. Don't forget them. It's important that we might be needed once again, and we will answer the call for help."

The Children of the Nature, including Hakata Cleo, firmly agreed with nine nods of pledge.

They were going to depart for their own activities of the reunion, when Miyako jogged in, calling Koushiro's name.

"Wait, Izzy! Wait!"

Together, Koushiro and Cleo slowed down as the lavender-haired girl arrived, pausing to regain her lost breath. 

"What's it, Yolei?" Koushiro asked when the girl finally gained her breaths. 

She sounded eager of something. "I want to tell you that I found something really bizarre." In her hand, she had her D-terminal, used for sending emailing and storing her two Digieggs. She opened it and pressed few buttons. Then she showed him the screen. "See this?"

Koushiro was baffled as his eyes attempted to read the complex texts appearing on the tiny screen, continuingly rolling from end to end, and repeated itself. The texts seemed short in length and were full with indistinct and indistinguishable symbols and letters that he could only recognize very few of them. It seemed heavily encoded to him, almost impossible to decipher.

"I recognize some symbols," Koushiro spoke, catching glimpses of texts before it disappeared into other unfamiliar texts. "It's in digicode. Where did you get those?"

Miyako shrugged. "I think it happened when we left the Digiworld. I noticed it last night and tried to decipher it. It's impossible for me. Hawkmon told me that he could recognize some of the texts as digicode, but he couldn't understand the code. I was wondering, since you know how to translate digicode, you could try and solve this."

Whenever he was given a complex code to solve, his eyes lightened up with ecstatic delight. Koushiro grinned, taking the D-terminal, "Sure, I will attempt and decipher it."

Cleo shook her head with fondness, knowing very well that he _loved to solve problems. She also took a glance at the text and was befuddled. "The message must be very important since it's very guarded. It may be valuable for us, perhaps in the future."_

At that, Miyako gazed inquisitively at the blond. She was curious about who was she really, and even if she wasn't a Digidestined, why did she often help the older kids out? "You really know a lot about the Digiworld, don't you?"

Cleo innocuously replied, "I'd been to the Digiworld only once- yes, even without a Digivice," she added to the wide-eyed girl.

"How?" she questioned, knowing that no one can enter the Digital World without a Digivice or a D-3. 

Cleo shrugged honestly. "I had no idea, but I met Izzy and the others four years ago, and ever since we became close friends. I know a lot about you and the events happening because Izzy told me. It's like I was there with you."

Miyako smiled, liking her honesty and gentleness. "It would be great if you could help us someday."

Cleo lightly laughed. "I try to help what I can."

Miyako noticed that Koushiro was still staring at the terminal. "So, Izzy," she voiced to get his attention, "you will try and solve the texts?"

Koushiro gazed up, grinning. "Why not? I do enjoy a challenge. _Arigato."_

Miyako smiled back. "Great, then I will see you two tonight for the big supper, right?" For the reunion, the older kids had planned a large supper at one of their favorite cafes. The manager there was more than happy to serve them, even the Digimon!

Cleo nodded, knowing about the plans. "Right. _Ato__ de aimasho (See you later)."_

Miyako left, hurrying to get up with her friends for the carnival. Koushiro then held his girlfriend's hand, voicing softly, "It would be nice if you are a Digidestined, Butterfly. We will need more help in the future if the Final Evil is coming."

Cleo slyly smiled and covered his lips with a finger, winking to him. "Careful, Red. You might get what you wish for."

***

Sighing, Koushiro leaned back and rubbed his strained eyes. He was back in his room, had finished going to the big supper with twenty-two of his close friends, eager to solve the texts Miyako had showed. It was in the language of the Digimon, called digicode, which was very complex compared with the 'language' of the computers. He had all the alphabet, prefixes, suffixes, etymology, and styles of digicode stored in his favorite Pineapple laptop. He was already able to read the simple terms, but still working to perfect his ability to read digicode much like the Digimon.

But this! He had spent two hours into the night attempting to decode the unbelievable fixed texts. He pondered at how did Miyako received the texts in her D-terminal and pondered if the other New Kids had the same things in their D-terminals. He was that close to solve the first sentence, but even that was too stubborn to let him have the luxury to rest. He refused to give up until he solved those inflexible messages.

He startled at a light tapping on his door, his mind again drifting on his memories. "Koushiro?" his mom whispered. Then the door opened a bit, and the doe-brown eyes of the slender woman softened at him tiredly sitting in his old chair. She glanced down to the bed clock and mentioned, "Dear, it's almost midnight. You should be in bed by now."

Koushiro can't help but smiling. No matter how old he was, his mother would certainly worry over him a tab too much. Still, he admired her serious love for him. He scratched his short red hair, muttering, "_Goman, haha (Sorry, mother)."_

Izumi-san smiled, wrapping her robe tightly, shaking her head adoringly. "It's all right, dear. I know you like to solve problems, but it's quite late."

"Don't worry. I will sleep soon. _Oyasuminasai, __haha__(__Good night, mother)." He stood up to give her a tender kiss on the cheek._

"_Oyasuminasai, __musuko__ (Good night, son)." Izumi-san also kissed him back and closed the door, leaving Koushiro to his solitude. _

Koushiro stretched his arms, gazing at his bed. It did look inviting, but he was still stubborn to give up. He went to tap few buttons, striving to solve the text. Somehow, to his surprise, the first half of the sentence finally gave in, and it translated into Japanese, very clear for him to read. Yet, the sentence itself was strange.

"_'One to bear a heart, one to bear no heart, Together you shall heal . . .'" Koushiro mumbled to himself. He realized it was a riddle of some kind. But that did that mean? Then he noticed that when he finally deciphered the first half, the second half seemed to break down, making it easier for him to solver faster and without any difficulties._

Koushiro finished the first sentence with a hint of puzzlement in his voice, "_'One to bear no blade, one to bear a blade, Together you shall harm. You alone decide the fate.'"_

"You alone decide the fate . . .?" Koushiro wondered at that. It seemed so peculiar to him to understand. It sounded like someone in the riddle has to make a last decision to decide the fate. What was the fate? Who was supposed to make the decision? Shaking his head, Koushiro gazed out the window and stopped there. His eyes widened with disbelief as he slowly stood up from the chair and wandered to the window. The window was open to let the night air to cool his room, but he didn't care about the window. It was the weather.

"Impossible . . ." he gaped at the sight of silvery-white flakes of snow drifting downward from the starry night. It wasn't even cloudy to start with. _It was snowing. The snow was thick, like in winter, falling without stopping, from the sky down straight to the ground. It was way too hot to have cold rain here!_

Stunned, Koushiro collapsed in his chair, eye still on the snow, and then slowly, he turned to read the sentences that started it all. "_'One to bear a heart, one to bear no heart, Together you shall heal. One to bear no blade, one to bear a blade, Together you shall harm. You alone decide the fate.'"_

_What is the Fate that we decide?_

****

Like a giant snake of silvery mists, Azulongmon twisted his seeming endless body through the Between. The Between acted much like the barrier between the Digital World and the Real World. If you ever see the Between, you would say that it was outer space with junk floating around. It wasn't exactly true. It wasn't outer space, but just a mantle that covered the Digital World like a flexible shield. The Digidestined had the ability to open a tiny opening in the mantle with the help of their Digivices and D-3s, and very few Digimon can walk the Between, including Unmons and Holy Beasts.

The Guardian of the Eastern Region wasn't very familiar with the Between, using it only to transport to another place on the Digital World without having to travel too far. Holy Beasts can use the Between, but only Unmons can travel through the Between to the Real World whenever they choose to. The Between was full of empty space, colored midnight blue, not pitch-black, as outer space would be, and here and there were colorful pipes stretching from everywhere to somewhere. What purpose were they, no one really know. Perhaps, the pipes were used to transport data around the Digital World.

Azulongmon immediately sensed a spot in the Between, knowing that it was where he was going to depart. Striking a mind bridge at that spot, Azulongmon mentally commanded the Between to pull apart, and soon, a tear in the barrier appeared, just big enough for him to squeeze his long body through. Once he departed the Between, he carefully 'sewn' the tear so it wouldn't cause an imbalance in the two worlds.

He was in an area of mountains, plateaus, and ravines. It was well hidden by the gigantic peaks, surrounding the rugged rocks and cliffs. Thick mists of silver-blue billowed around the rocks, making difficult to see clear enough, but he was a Holy Beast and had the rare ability to see through the darkness and clouds. That was where he was supposed to meet the other Holy Beasts.

Then he noticed something different. A young woman stood on one of the wide plateaus, robed in soft pink and white, the clothing and long auburn hair seeming to swaying even in the breezeless weather. Her white eyes saw the Air Dragon, made a wide smile and raised a lithe hand to greet him.

"Greetings, Azulongmon," the woman spoke, her voice very soft, breezy.

Azulongmon lowered himself as much as his body let him, and questioned, "Seijamon, is it really you?"

Seijamon softly laughed at the surprised face. "Yes, it's me, old friend."

Azulongmon's red eyes gazed each itch of the woman. "But you are back in your Unmon form! Solid, too. How did that happen?"

The woman smiled. "Have you forgotten that a human man sacrificed his life to protect the Digital World with me? Now that the Martyr's taking over my place as the Guardian of the Digital World, I can finally move around freely without harming the world."

Azulongmon remembered. "A noble sacrifice. We honored him for it."

Seijamon moved closer to the Air Dragon. "Now, are you ready to exchange the Spheres?"

"Oh, yes." Azulongmon sent a mental order, then, from around his body where he protected his Digicores, two tiny spheres withdrew from the airy body. One was colored strong golden yellow, glowing faintly as the other was blurred pink, as if shy. Seijamon also commanded to remove her two spheres. The first one was dark, dark blue, like the night sky, and the other was as red as human blood. The Holy Beast and Guardian exchanged the spheres, the Air Dragon taking the blue and red spheres and the Unmon keeping the pink and golden orbs.

The exchange done, Seijamon made a small sigh. "I hope this will work."

"It's for the best," Azulongmon reassured her. "We must fool Daematermon so she won't harm you."

Seijamon shook her head, as if was anxious about it. "She doesn't even know how to find me. Still, you risk your life . . ." She gazed at the serious, wise face of Azulongmon and again sighed. "Very well. I will do what you ask, old friend." She then scanned around, changing the subject, "When will the other Holy Beasts be here?"

"Soon, I'm sure." Azulongmon also looked around the rocks. "I also requested the Fate Digimon to come here."

Seijamon looked at him with an astonished expression. "The Fate Digimon? But I thought they never get involved with us. They are so secretive, Azulongmon."

"True, but remember, if it's not for them, three of the Digidestined would still be controlled by her. They want to help."

Seijamon received a bitter shiver and forced herself to fix her white eyes on her friend, her voice strained. "Azulongmon, tell me the truth. Is Daematermon alive? Truly alive?"

"There's no doubt," came another feminine voice.

Seijamon and Azulongmon glanced downward to the source of the voice. A tiger entered from the thick mist with other four Digimon behind her. She was larger than the Real World tiger, with glossed white fur and green stripes streaking all over. Armored plates of silver covered her paws, back, and shoulders. She had three horns on her forehead and her eyes were stern sapphire-blue.

"She's responsible for the Villains and the growing darkness," she continued, her voice harsh like grating rocks, but wispy like sunrays, "The Black Lens had been found. It's a terrible fate for us."

Seijamon arched one of her eyebrows at the Earth Tiger. "Baihumon, I presume."

The Guardian of the Western Region smiled and bowed slightly. "Yes, Lady Seijamon, at your service."

Azulongmon introduced the other Digimon, "You know the other Guardians, as well. Ebonwumon, Sanimon, Dreamon, and Dasalmon."

Seijamon cocked her head at the last name. "Dasalmon . . . I'm not familiar with you, little one."

The one-foot-tall sprite floated upward to meet eyes. She was clad in flower petals of roses and daisies, and soft blue skin. She was kept aloft by a set of wide white butterfly wings, lined with black. Around her head, she wore a white-tinted helmet that hid her eyes, her long white-blond hair flowing from underneath.

"I'm the newest Guardian," Dasalmon timidly said. "I guard the Friends of the Stones."

Seijamon grinned at the shy Guardian. "So the Friends of the Stones finally found a Guardian. Welcome, Dasalmon." She touched the tiny hand in greeting.

Ebonwumon was chuckling to herself. The Guardian of the Southern Region was a gigantic bird, her feathers like wild flames of orange and yellow. She had no need of any armor; her long, piercing beak and fire feathers were enough. She was actually an android within, covered by the fiery feathers that no one would suspect her as a machine. She was roguish in nature, enjoying fun in any form, and her own black eyes sparkled with craftiness as she glanced over to one of the Guardians.

"One thing that really surprises me is Dreamon is actually here. I thought he never hangs around with us."

Dreamon was a strange Digimon. He had no body. He was formed into a floating blackness, but not the darkness of the night or evilness. It was like his memories clasped together to form a rather misshapen body, which was enough for the cautious Digimon. His large eyes were floating within the black body, the only solid things. He was very solitary, preferring to be around rare Digimon. He was one of his kinds, and not many Digimon even knew anything about him, the Guardian of the Crests.

His deep golden eyes blazed as he scorned back, "I would not kiss you if it's the last thing I do, you slovenly, feathered machine!"

Ebonwumon was hot-tempered, angrily ruffling her feathers, jeering, "You won't because, first, I'm going to shove my Crimson Blaze right between your pretty eyes so fast that -"

"Enough!" Azulongmon snapped at the two Guardians. Ebonwumon and Dreamon swiftly hushed down, moving back from each other, but they still flashed hot glares at each other. Azulongmon growled, "I won't have this anymore. You are behaving like In-Trainings. That's enough."

Hiding a smile, Baihumon whispered to a bewildered Dasalmon, "Ebonwumon and Dreamon are old friends." She then flashed a fake grin at the ticked-off Guardians who suddenly glared over to her as Dasalmon tittered.

Seijamon shook her head, smiling. "It's all right, Azulongmon. Should we start or wait for Zhuqiaomon?"

Baihumon spoke up, "That old turtle is probably taking another nap. Besides, we know he never leaves his ocean even if a Marinedevimon invades it."

Azulongmon groaned. Zhuqiaomon, the Guardian of the Northern Region, loved to sleep. He could take a nap that lengthened from five days to thirty years, depending on his mood. He wasn't lazy or lethargic, but just enjoying the peace of sleeping. It kept him out of trouble. He was the oldest Holy Beast, next to Azulongmon, and both of them were close friends, despite the differences in times of waking and sleeping. 

"Alright, I will inform him later about the meeting," he muttered.

Then soft steps were heard from beyond the mist, and soon, two humanoid Digimon appeared before the Guardian, one a gigantic male in flame-touched white clothing and fiery-red hair and the other a slender female in star-speckled white clothing and lavender hair. They bowed deeply to Azulongmon.

"Fate Digimon, welcome."

Akemimon spoke, unusual for him who preferred to be silent, letting his sister speak for both, "Thank you for requesting us. It's an honor, and we're attempting to help as much as we can. It's the least we can do."

Azulongmon nodded. "Good. Now that everybody is here, I have terrible news. About a month ago, Daematermon's resurrected."

"Unfortunate," Ebonwumon muttered, perching beside Seijamon.

Being the newest Guardian, Dasalmon had no clue that they were talking about. She quietly asked, "Who is Daematermon?"

Dreamon was floating above Baihumon, and he made a rude scoff that made Dasalmon feeling sheepish, blushing underneath her blue skin. 

Baihumon rolled her sapphire eyes at Dreamon and answered her question, "Daematermon is the Daemon Mother. She's the source of the Villains we had suffered. She's the very essence of the darkness. She's the First Evil and the Final Evil."

Dasalmon shuddered at the unnatural shivers Baihumon's voice caused. "She sounds awful."

Amayamon nodded, also receiving the shudders. Her emerald eyes were heavily haunted, not quite gone since after four years. "Yes, little one, she is. She corrupted me. She's powerful."

Akemimon never liked the way she was permanently haunted by the terrible memories, and his handsome face contorted with anger toward the Daemon Mother. He spoke to Azulongmon, "Is there a way to stop her?"

"There's a way," Sanimon spoke for the first time since she joined the group. She was solemn, her eyes lowered. "The Destiny Sword."

Dreamon again made an unconvinced grunt. "Absurd. It's only an ancient legend. It's not true. Even if it is, there are many reasons why. The Maiden's dead, her crest is lost, her friends had lost their memories, _and the Sword is flawed."_

"You cynical sourpuss!" Ebonwumon growled, glaring to Dreamon, who shot daggers of dislike back.

Sanimon paid no attention to the rivals, continuing, "There's a way to find the Sword. If the Prophet says there's a way to find the Sword, then there _is one."_

The Holy Beasts, even the bickering ones, paused to gaze at the red-robed Digimon in astonishment. "You mean _the Prophet?" Baihumon whispered. "You had met him? After all the years?"_

Sanimon knew that the Prophet was the one who predicted all the prophecies linked with the Digidestined. He was shrouded in mystery that no one knew who he was really, or what did he look like. She had earned his trust and respect, and knew what he looked like. But he told her not to tell to anybody. Not yet.

Azulongmon questioned her, "What did he tell you about the Sword?"

"He said he found a Digidestined who has the power to wield the Sword. She already found the crest."

"Even if she can wield it," Dreamon muttered, "she still needs the memories -"

"Oh, give it a rest, Dreamon!" Ebonwumon ruffled her feathers in ire.

"He's right, although," Sanimon quickly spoke to hush them again. "She does need the memories to wake the Sword. Plus, she also needs three things to energize it – the Golden Digieggs and Golden Lens."

"Why them?" Akemimon said in puzzlement.

Sanimon entwined her hands within her wide sleeves. "You know how the Prophet works. He gives hints, but never tells the reasons."

"So who have these things?" Dasalmon asked.

"The Golden Digieggs belong to the Brother and Judge. For the Golden Lens, I do believe that it will show up when it's ready."

Baihumon sternly frowned. "Do they know about this?"

"Only the Watcher knows. She's the one who can wield the Sword."

"But should we warn them about the danger?" Amayamon was anxious.

Sanimon shook her head. "The business is none of our concern. The Prophet and Watcher will take care of it."

Dreamon was getting exasperated, his golden eyes growing darker. "Then what's the point of this meeting?"

Ebonwumon muttered to herself that only Sanimon and Amayamon heard the words and were a tab startled at her language. Azulongmon ignored her and said, "The point is that Sanimon informed me that the Prophet predicted the final battle with Daematermon."

The Holy Beasts and Guardians shifted in fear and worry. The Final Battle was supposed to be the last balance between the light and the darkness. Whoever wins the battle will affect the two worlds totally, either in complete darkness or eternal light.

"Are you certain?" Seijamon questioned, her white eyes darkening into a pale blue hue, seeming frightened.

"It's no doubt," Sanimon answered solemnly. "The war is coming."

"What can we do?" Amayamon looked helpless.

Sanimon gazed at each Digimon, saying, "The Prophet wishes to have us giving help as much as we can. The children are needed once again, and they need our hope and support to end the war. He has orders for us to aid them."

Seijamon seemed taken back by that, her face a grimace. "Orders? Since when he ordered us?"

"Since when he ordered me to give them the Digital Keys."

As she expected, the Holy Beasts reacted with shouts of incredulity, and the Guardians responded with warning glares at her. They would expect that from a Guardian who disgraced her duty by blindly obeying one of Daematermon's 'sons'. 

Baihumon swiftly stood to all fours, almost scolding her, "The Digital Keys are important to us! If Daematermon takes a hold on them -"

"She won't," Sanimon almost growled. She was becoming vexed with the Holy Beasts' superior outlook. "The Digidestined are not stupid. If they are, we would have already given up to her."

Dreamon puffed himself larger, becoming tensely calm with each swelling of wrath. "If you say about them is true -"

"I do not lie," Sanimon was dangerously composed, her golden eyes now hooded at him. "You can argue about how irrational and childish they are as long as you like. Let me remind you that none of us Digimon has the power to face and fight the darkness without fear. They have guts, unlike any of us. They are not foolish. They are not weak. And they are certainly not whining about it!" 

Dreamon still angrily puffed.

"Now, if you just listen," Sanimon felt her fury draining out, "here's what the Prophet asked from us. Because the Digital Keys are needed, he requests you, Dreamon, to give away the crests for the Armor Children."

Dreamon looked definitely surprised. He was now guarding the five new crests that were meant for the New Kids, one already found for the Friend. His body shrunk, and he eyed Sanimon carefully, but found only seriousness. He then averted his head away. "Where does he want me to have the crests?"

"The Destiny Island," Sanimon answered and then turned to Dasalmon. "Now, Dasalmon, the Prophet wants to know how the Shields are."

Dasalmon responded, "They are safe. The Digidestined are very smart to put them in secret places. I doubt the Daematermon knows how or where to find them."

Sanimon smiled for the first time. "Excellent." Then she gazed over to the Fate Digimon. "The Prophet knows how much you offered to help the children get digiunited and helped them understand their loyalty. He asks you to be their guardians if possible. He knows it's forbidden to your nature -"

Akemimon hushed her with a raised hand. "We will help."

Amayamon nodded in agreement. "This time, Fate will not control us. The lives of Digimon and Humans alike are more important."

"The Prophet will be pleased to hear it." Then the Guardian turned to the four Holy Beasts. "Your help are needed to us. You need to guard the Spheres and allow the children access if they need them. Daematermon is raising her last son. It's no way telling what he will do for her. We must be on our guard."

Azulongmon nodded his great head. "We will, Sanimon. Now, friends, we must keep hope for them and our kinfolk. The war must be ended."

***

**_In the Past_**

Dasalmon, the Guardian of the Friends of the Stones, never noticed the abnormal blackness that hovered above. During a night, it would be difficult to notice it, but that night, the sky was full of thousands of sparkling stars. The stars radiated more than enough light to shine than the absent moon. If Dasalmon ever looks up, she would notice something unique, a part of the night sky empty of the stars.

She never looked up.

The darkness studied the Friends of the Stones. Ten symbols were stamped on ten stone pillars, but she didn't care about them. She didn't hate the Digidestined. She had no fear of them as her 'sons' did. She feared only one, and this Digidestined was long dead. She was also resourceful and cunning, unlike her sons. 

She was the only one who knew very well that goodness would defeat the evilness. She learned not to underestimate the light. It will always stop the evilness before it could reach up to its zenith. She knew that. She never planned to control all the Digital World or destroy it completely. Why should she do that, when she could have fun to watch the Digital World develop with the darkness and study the goodness as it defeated the darkness so many times? She only enjoyed the progress, not the outcome.

She was part of the light before she turned to the dark side. It was not fate. Fate did nothing with it. It was only chance. The light had no power to harm her since the Digidestined she feared was gone. But when the Digidestined was alive, she had luck on her side that she survived the pain received from the Sword. The Sword can destroy the darkness permanently, and it was only luck she survived the power. 

Withdrawing her lost eyes from the Stones, she set her mind on something else; her most precious and jealously cherished possession – a Digistone. She could sense it, far from the north.

When one of the Fate Digimon, Amayamon, found the Digistone inside a vine-covered temple, the blackness was upset. She feared that Amayamon might recognize the Dark Digistone and destroyed it before her entire plan was fully formed. But, fortunately, Amayamon had a thirst for curious and mysterious objects and touched it. That's when the darkness realized that she could control her body and use it to adsorb the heart-darkness of the Digidestined.

It was luck, not fate.

The blackness soared north where she sensed her Digistone in a temple that was hidden to all Digimon except the Fate Digimon. But she knew where, thanks to Amayamon. She knew that the hidden temple could be found if anybody knew how to find it. Soon after, she could see the thick red mist that acted as the boundary to the hidden temple. The mist had no power to prevent her from entering, and therefore, she effortlessly drifted through, until she was in a large chamber with several tunnels leading outward.

She had no need to remember where the Digistone was; she could sense it strongly, nearly. She soared through one tunnel until she arrived to a small, almost innocuous room. There was no light to brighten the room, but she can see fine even in solid darkness. On the center of the floor, there was her Digistone – the Black Lens. 

She was rejoiced, relieved, and went to embrace her whole deformed body around it. She felt the power of the darkness radiating from it, filling her empty heart. She began to remember the past events.

She was called Daematermon, which meant 'Daemon Mother'. She was the source of the villains that tainted the Digital World. She called them her 'sons', though they weren't, born only by viruses she planted in carefully chosen Digieggs that mutated into corrupt Virus Digimon.

But before, she wasn't known as Daematermon. She was Wisimon, a Digimon Guardian. She was part of the original five Digimon Guardians. She'd never heard of a Digidestined, never heard of a Human. The only human-like Digimon there she knew were Unmons or the Half Children as the Digimon called them. An unknown force developed the new Digital World. The Digimon recently became civilized, living in Villages and Towns, not as wild as they used to be.

The Digimon in her time were not the same Digimon in this time. 

Then, all of a sudden, a young Unmon had a vision that there will be Human children called as Digidestined who will save the Digital World from the darkness. What darkness? There was no danger in the Digital World, despite the Virus Digimon. The Unmon was concerned that the human children might need guardians if there was a life-threatening danger to face. 

She began to seek Digimon who would be suited for the children. How did she find which Digimon? Following the vision, she went into an ancient temple that was long abandoned and found four mysterious objects that were made from one of the revered relics of the Unmons – the Golden Lens.

The Golden Lens was the counterpart to the Black Lens, like goodness and evilness. The Black Lens was unknown in her time, but the Golden Lens was respected and devoted. It was the original Digivice, though it looked much like a flat, oval stone covered with a golden color. It was the only other way to aid Digimon to digivolve without needing to gain enough energy and persistence to reach to the next stage. All you have to do is stand beside it, and you will digivolve.

The Digimon adored it and sought any way to get on the Golden Lens, but the Unmons were secretive and hidden. Any relic would be difficult to be found unless an Unmon chose to reveal it.

The girl Unmon was puzzled at the strange Digivices, had no idea who made them, but then as soon as she touched them, they glowed with a golden light, much like the Golden Lens, then they floated up in the air. The Unmon was bewildered at them, and then she received another vision that was unidentified to anybody. The Unmon was too shaken to tell. All that was known was she created a hasty report on the one of the walls in the Temple and hurriedly departed. At that, the Digivices disappeared. 

The Unmon discovered five new Digimon Guardian; Wisimon was part of them, although she wondered why. Then Five Human children showed up, equally bewildered as the Digimon. Typically, like the other Digimon Guardians, Wisimon thought they were ugly, uglier than the Unmons, but one seemed pretty to her. Her own Digidestined. She was young like her, compared to the ages. The girl was very cheerful and kind. She knew her name, but now she loathed the name.

Her Digidestined almost deleted her with the Sword. There were few memories between those times, but she remembered all about the battle. 

Before the battle, Wisimon yearned to digivolve like the other Digimon Guardians had done. Her Digidestined didn't have a Digivice, but she cheerfully told her that she will digivolve someday. Wisimon refused to wait. She began to hate her Digidestined, believing in secret that the girl rejected her from digivolving. She was the weakest of the Digimon, but the others were mistaken. She will show them. She will digivolve into the highest stage, the most powerful Digimon they will ever seen, and she will show them.

Then she got her wish. When her Digidestined found her horn, meant for calling for help, Wisimon found a black-colored stone that was the twin to the Golden Lens. She was eager; she finally got what she wanted, and she will show them! The girl did know about the Black Lens, but she was too young to understand. She only smiled back. Wisimon only smiled back. 

Wisimon could sense the unbelievable power from it, coaxing her to use it to digivolve. And she did. Not only that she did reach to the highest stage, but that she broke the limit of power and became the most powerful Mega Digimon. No one can ever have so much power that she had. She was so amazed with the delicious power that she embraced it and used it for her own uses. She warp-digivolved into Daematermon.

The Digidestined quickly searched for a way to stop her as she constantly wrecked everything in her wake. Finally, they did find a way – the Destiny Sword. It was the only object created by humans that was now one of the revered relics. And because those children created it, it was flawed. It didn't have enough power to stop her. And only one Digidestined can wield it – her own Digidestined! 

The girl, known as the Maiden, was confused; she didn't want to hurt her Digimon Guardian, but her brother, the leader, the Avenger, forced her. The other Digidestined, the Matron, the Hunter, and the Dreamer, gave away their lives to add to the Sword's weak power. The Digimon Guardians did the same, and they lay around her, deceased. The Maiden refused to listen to the Avenger and dropped the Sword. Somehow, her own crest, the mysterious pendant that she had possessed ever since her birth, as well as the other Digidestined's crests, began to glow into the Sword. The Crest itself wielded the Sword, not the Maiden!

Daematermon had sent her Song of the Mother attack to destroy her Digidestined, but the Sword blocked it and slew her. Almost. It only glazed her eyes, blinding her. She lost everything, her body, her sight, and her heart, except the memories. The Maiden died because her Crest couldn't control the power of the Sword. The Avenger was the only one alive, and he was never to be heard again.

Daematermon frowned at the memories and turned her mind to the recent past.

She thought about her sons. Many sons disappointed her due to their lack of her intelligence. None of them had her patience, her awareness of the balance between the light and the dark, and most of all, her ability to see in the Digidestined's mind for fears and hatreds. 

For eons, she spent most of her time observe the Digimon, their doings and actions. She had learned that often that the Vaccine Digimon, known as the freedom fighters, had the ability to defeat the Virus Digimon, the bullies. Bullies were cowards, and the Virus Digimon weren't any better than that. The Virus Digimon were too focused on one thing – to terrorize, while the Vaccine Digimon only protect those weaker than them. That was how she learned that the light would banish the darkness.

She went to find out if her theory was true or not.

Her first son was Devimon. She was fond of him and his Black Gears. He did an impressive job by driving the black cogs deep in the Data and Vaccine Digimon's bodies. The Black Gears had the ability to drive those Digimon nuts, having no self-control. Devimon did keep a cruel control over File Island for a while, until, just as she expected, the first prophecy predicted by a mysterious Digimon came true.

There were many prophecies, some overwhelming, some terrified to the Digimon, which were predicted by a Digimon that was hidden through the eons. He predicted many prophecies that were linked to the Digidestined. Despite the fact that the five Digidestined brought danger into the Digital World, the Digimon began to believe that these Digidestined would truly return to save the worlds.

She was careful about the prophecies, studying them patiently, and created few sons to control the Continent of Server to see if the prophecies were real. If they were real, she will fear the last prophecy, the Last Battle, but if the prophecies were hoaxes, she had nothing to fear.

The first prophecy came true. Eight new Digidestined arrived to the Digital World with special Digivices created by the Unmons and Digimon Guardians to fight against the darkness.

They fascinated her. When they were only normal, active children, she could sense the hidden powers inside them that they weren't aware of. They had the strongest faith she had ever seen, even greater than her Digidestined. As predicted, the smallest one, the Savior, deleted Devimon with his Angel Guardian.

It was expected. Devimon was the weakest of her sons, but effective, at least for a while.

Etemon proved an exasperating failure from time to time. She couldn't believe how idiotic he was. He hopelessly searched for the Digidestined while they effortlessly found their Heart-Crests! She constantly cursed him for his failures. And his singing! He was useless to her, except when he forced the Master to persuade his Digimon Guardian to digivolve corruptly. But that was it. She was inwardly glad when the Master's Digimon Guardian deleted him with the power from the Crest of Courage.

This Master reminded her of the Hunter with the same courage, but more wild.

Her most favorite son was Myotismon. He was like her, patient, shrewd. But he had only one flaw – he underestimated the Digidestined too often. He had a tyrannical control over the Digimon in most of Server, ruling with no mercy. He did have two of the Digimon Guardians under his control for a time. The Digimon were horrified of him, cowered at his name. He could prove her theory wrong that the dark can swallow the light.

Unfortunately, the Digidestined had discovered their crest powers and learned about the inborn natural powers. They could control Nature itself – no Digimon except elemental types could do that. It was something about them that made Daematermon cautious. They were just children with too much power for them to control. But they knew how to control them, like they already knew how. She kept on suspecting that their childish appearances were only a deception.

Myotismon knew about the legend that the children will find their powers through the crests and tried any attempts to steal them. When he failed, he sent several henchmen to make them forget about the powers. It might work, but they were already aware of their powers and used them against him, giving their powers to the Savior. He then used his Life Power to harm Myotismon, but only enough to remind him that the children were not to be fooled with.

Then, something else had caught her attention. Before the children discovered their nature powers, she sensed something that struck a barb of disbelieved fear in her empty heart. She sensed a crest coming to life for the first time in eons. That crest once belonged to her dead Digidestined and it was still alive! She remembered a prophecy that her Digidestined will return in another body and destroy her as it was meant to be. She can't allow this to happen. 

She attempted to search for that Digidestined – she wasn't certain if it was a boy or a girl. The crest was too weak to defeat her, but she refused to take the risk to let it regain the power. Somehow, the crest blocked the life force of the Digidestined. She couldn't find the child. She was furious, but as quick as she sensed the crest, it vanished, gone. She wondered if it was only a nightmare.

Now, Myotismon had entered the Human World and could have invaded it with ease if the children didn't follow after him! The children proved a nuisance to him, but she kept cautious of them. The Humans became aware and frightened of the digital monsters, but once again, the Digidestined were able to stop the Digimon before they could do any serious harm. Myotismon searched for the Ninth Child, the sister of the Master, who was supposed to stop him. 

The Saint was strong in her power, stronger than any of the Digidestined, bearing the Power of Death, and her Angel Guardian destroyed Myotismon. Daematermon was annoyed that even her most powerful son was weak to them, but still, he had too much persistence to give up. He resurrected himself into his Mega Stage, Venommyotismon. 

But she didn't forget about the balance of the light and the dark. When the dark shifted too far, the light just shifted back. The Arrows of Hope and Light gave power to the Master's and Guardian's Digimon Guardians to digivolve into their Mega Stage. Of course, they deleted him.

The children may be powerful, but they didn't know one thing. In the three days they stayed in the Human World to fight Myotismon, she had centuries to raise four new sons without any trouble to keep the Digital World under control. Only one had her favor – Piedmon. The other three sons were brats.

The Dark Masters, as they called themselves, did excellent work to twist the Digital World itself to their likings. She could change it with a swipe of her hand, but she was fascinated at how they used their abilities to mutate the lands to their own tastes and created Spiral Mountain. It was an extraordinary landscape. It appeared to a Digimon that he/she could see it rising from the ground when he/she was really on the mountain. It was baffling to the Digimon. Near the half of the Digimon were brutally deleted before the Digidestined arrived along with the Saint.

Metalseadramon was weak, pitiful compared to Myotismon, but as sadistic. He constantly searched for them just like Etemon while Whamon hid them anywhere he could. He had a hot temper and would wreck everything to get his way. His mania to find them led him to deletion when Wargreymon shredded him into pieces on the behalf of the children's vengeance for Whamon's deletion.

It was clear that the children were seriously loyal, even when they didn't know about it, and would exact any vengeance for their lost friends. Daematermon's caution of them grew.

Puppetmon was worse. He was the baby of the Dark Masters, having a brutal desire to 'play' with the Digidestined. The dolls were her gift to him for seeking their fears and use the fears against them. But his tiny mind wouldn't understand. Instead, he used the dolls to control their bodies, not their minds. The Savior, as he was forced to 'play' with Puppetmon, stole the dolls in order to free his friends.

The Guardian was easily swayed to the side of darkness and was used to battle the Master. Daematermon would be delighted to watch the battle along with Puppetmon, but she then sensed an uncomfortable light presence and stayed clear of it. She recognized it as the Unmon Guardian, and, using the Saint as an avatar, the Guardian took the Digidestined someplace safe so she could explain about the past. She didn't explain about the real past, what really happened in the Digital World, and Daematermon was amused of it because the Guardian was the one who predicted the very first prophecy of the Fallen Digidestined.

Why didn't she tell the Digidestined about it? Interesting.

Puppetmon may be passionate, but he was a whiner. His flaws were that he believed he had 'friends' and expected the Digidestined to obey his orders. Could it be coincidental that the Guardian of Friendship, who had vanished on his own path, appeared to delete him? 

Perhaps it was just coincidence.

Oh, must she think about Metaletemon? She just wanted to forget that he actually existed, that aggravating monkey!

Machinedramon might be an excellent Villain, but he just had no brain. He controlled an isolated city with brainless machine Digimon, who had no logic to recognize a spark diesel if it was poking in their eyes. Machinedramon had an eagerness to bomb everything when he pleased to. It could be interesting to watch him bombing something; he was _graceful at it, but, eventually, it got boring. The Master and Warder sent his machines on a wild goose race, and then when the Saint glowed with an unusual light, Wargreymon went ahead and deleted him without any difficulties. _

She wasn't really happy about it, but she knew the light had balanced against the dark. 

Now, Piedmon was a pure Villain with the usual cruelness and slyness, and he did like to play with them. One by one, he sent his magical handkerchief to transform the Digidestined and the Digimon into key chains. He caught sixteen of them, then he battled against Angemon as the Savior and Saint tried to escape on a free-moving rope.

Who putted that rope there, anyway?!

As she was aware of this, the light shifted, and the Crest of Hope glowed for the first time. Mangaangemon, one of the most powerful Angel Digimon, sent Piedmon into a void with no escape.

Apocalymon was not part of herself. He was created by the grief and rage of the failed Digimon who were unable to digivolve and ended up deleting themselves. Why Apocalymon had a strong hatred against the Digidestined, Daematermon wondered. She knew everything about every level of negative emotions, and she snorted at his reasonless wrath. He suffered so much, but he had no one to blame on. He suddenly blamed it on the Digidestined, who had nothing to do about it. Nothing. 

Daematermon knew when a Digimon had no reason to be angry with someone who had no role, it eventually failed. It was no surprise that the children deleted him. He was too grieved, confused. His Total Annihilation was too weak to fight against the overwhelming lights of the Digivices. 

He was only the cover of the darkness. He was not even a pest compared to her own darkness.

She found that after the battle with Apocalymon, the children didn't leave the Digital World as she thought so. They remained there for a reason, seemed to be trapped. She could have taken the chance to destroy them when their powers were at the lowest from battling with the cover of darkness. 

Then a month later, the reason why the Digidestined were trapped arrived in the body of a new Digidestined – the Last Digidestined, the Keeper. How curious that he was called the Last Digidestined, the only one who can get the other Digidestined home? If she went ahead to destroy the Keeper when he had no inborn power, the children would be still trapped, and she might be successful to stop them permanently. 

First, she sent Atmamon, a demon Digimon with the only purpose to destroy the boy. She made a mistake. She discovered that Atmamon had the power to steal the souls of the children, and he could have destroyed them with ease. Unfortunately.

The Keeper discovered his Power of Ice through his Crest of Soul and deleted him. He was powerful, yes, but still inexperienced, untrained. He didn't even know how to get home! Because of that, she must act soon to stop them. They were getting too powerful for her taste.

The battles with the Digidestined were her first encounters, and she swiftly learned about their intimate loyalty and treasured love to each other. It was unusual to her because the Fallen Children didn't have such powers like that. They were rather indifferent and forlorn. Perhaps that was why the Nature Children were so successful in defeating the darkness so many times, being so intimate.

After Amayamon touched the Black Lens in the ancient temple _(It happened during the reign of the Dark Masters), Daematermon was able to take over her body. As she watched the Digidestined from her hidden places, using her ability to see the fears in them, she discovered an interest in three of the ten children for a reason – their heart-darkness was intense. She may choose few other children, whose heart-darkness was more corrupt, but they already erased the negative emotions, and they were useless to her._

She was interested in three of them, only. She needed the heart-darkness to invigorate her body.

The Seer had deep guilt and shame for her intimate, the Master, the guilt of a death. She may have already cleansed herself of the guilt, but she was still feeling mortified for it.

The Reconciler was once controlled by Myotismon and transformed into the Betrayer to murder the Master. He never forgot the memories, and he kept wondering what if he _did murder him. She decided to give him the chance. _

The Warder had hidden wrath to prove his strength to all his friends, especially the Master. He was looked upon as a weakling, unable to fight, and he so wanted to prove that he could and _can fight._

It was interesting to her that all their negative feelings were targeted to their leader. Was he responsible for this? Must she get rid of him to relieve their rage and guilt?

A Villain would do that, but not Daematermon. She chose to let the Master and the others to live to suffer the loss of three of their friends.

First of all, she sent Medawmon, minor Virus Digimon with one purpose – to mark the trio with her emblem, the shape of a 'V'. She was fond of this Human letter with its ruggedness and the penetrating sound. She created a curse to drain energy from either a Human or a Digimon to restore her own energy. The three children's negative energy rejuvenated her, and she was capable to taint them, making their hearts dark with the negative energy.

Amayamon's twin brother, Akemimon, was alert of everything. He knew about her true purpose, but did nothing to stop her. She knew, as well as him, that even in her weak stage, she had enough power to delete the Ultimate into oblivion.

So Akemimon sought for the seven children's help and warned them about the 'betrayers'.

The Digidestined were also tirelessly persistent. Constantly searching for the 'cure' to the marks, they discovered the Fountain of Purity that was hidden for eons, the Friends of the Stones that were made for the Balance of the Nature in digital data, and the Digistones that were actually their transformed Digimon Guardians. The Digistones had the ability to burn their marks on the children's palms so that they could use their powers easily without having to focus too much. 

Also, the Digidestined were digiunited with the Digistones, earning the ability to transform into their natural forms that were linked to their powers. It was never predicted. What was the purpose of this?

Daematermon was so upset, the only time to lose her temper, which she attempted to harm the children by using their negative traits in identical bodies. It did work for a while, so shocked to them that the experiences scarred them forever. But still, they proved a powerful resistance. They were armed with their inborn powers, the purified water that can remove the curse temporarily, and the eternal hope that will never be gone. 

The Friends of the Stones and their desire to free their tainted friends forced her to give up Amayamon, leaving her a deformed body, black and ugly, but a body, indeed. It was painful to her, reminding that the light from their hearts were stronger than the light of the Digivices. But now, she had the needed things – the Digidestined's heart-darkness, a solid body frame, and the Black Lens, which she now received.

Her plan began to bloom.

After the children finally departed by the living power of the Keeper's Crest of Soul, there was Diaboromon. It was the first time she wasn't involved in a battle. A young Digidestined in America attempted to create a Digiegg, but every Digimon knew that you couldn't create a Digiegg with the available data. Humans had no knowledge to how to create a Digiegg. Only Digimon can, since the Digieggs were their babies.

She didn't do anything to cause this to happen as a mysterious virus invaded the Digiegg. The Digiegg mutated into Diaboromon, a new type of Digimon, or so that seemed to her. The battle was interesting to her, occurring in the Internet with Time on his side. The Digimon Guardians of the four boys attempted to stop him, but without success. 

But something happened. DNA-digivolving was a rare progress, happened only when two Digimon had the same goal in their minds and yearned to digivolve, and their data fused into one. Wargreymon and Metalgarurumon DNA-digivolved into a Mega knight Digimon named Omnimon. Then the Warder slowed Diaboromon down, which gave Omnimon a slim chance to delete him.

She would let the virus be deleted, but she didn't like it when the young Digidestined messed around with her viruses, and she decided to give him a lesson. A lesson in creation. She knew that viruses, much like human viruses, were very difficult to get rid of. There was only one way to delete the virus, and Omnimon wasn't the answer.

She sent the same virus in one of the twin Digimon Guardians of the American Digidestined _(He was known as the Judge). For four years, the Judge suffered guilt as he watched Lopmon mutated into a dark, tainted Digimon._

During that time, the Digital World was supposed to be peaceful, but Daematermon was stealthily planning her next strategy.

She was seeking for a wild crest that cannot be tamed for a Digidestined – the Crest of Silence. For some apparent reason, the crest wasn't meant for anybody, not even for Digimon. In a point of view, it was useless. But the Guardians of the Digital World must have known about its hidden powers because they had putted it under crucial guard by one of the rare Digimon. They wouldn't have gone through so much if the crest were useless, would they? 

She discovered that the Crest of Silence was like the final crest, the only crest that can cause chaos if it wasn't under control. She needed it to tap in the Black Lens to release the power, much like the Crests and Digivices of the Digidestined. She had searched for the secret place where the crest was guarded, until she found it in a small, almost inaccessible cave in the Grey Spine where the Sunomon Village was settled within. The Grey Spine was the backbone of the Digital World, set in the far north, where the weather was chilly and grey.

No Digimon would expect to find the Crest of Silence in the barren lands, but Daematermon knew better.

The contamination that spread across the Digital World and tainted the Digimon was all her doing to keep the Digimon busy with appalling legends of an incurable virus that 'eats' the data of the world.

The contamination was one of her curses. It can touch any Digimon – Vaccine, Data, and Virus, and became tainted. There was no cure for it. She can control the tainted Digimon, much like Devimon's Black Gears. But she didn't try to control them. She only let the contamination harm them, keep them busy.

But somehow, the Destined Digimon found a peculiar cure. Already digiunited with their Digidestined, the Digimon Guardians were capable to transform themselves into humanoids with Digimon appearances. They were new kinds of Digimon, not actually Unmons, but with their own attacks. Unmons were completely immune to her contamination. Digimon and Humans were vulnerable to it, but the Destined Digimon in their human forms were also immune like Unmons. They can touch the contamination without becoming tainted.

But still, they couldn't stand the foulness and darkness that radiated from the contamination. The contamination was poison to them, even though they won't be harmed. However, only three of them were capable to withstand the poison. They were the Digimon Guardians of the three Digidestined whose heart-darkness she absorbed, they already tainted, but aware of it. 

They attempted to find the source of the contamination without fear until they found her in a dark castle that belonged to her favorite son. They were so outraged with her for tainting their Digidestined and vowed to delete her. Of course, they were too weak to fight her without the proper weapon, and instead destroyed the Crest of Silence, the only other object served in her resurrection.

But remember that she was the first evil to be arisen and will be the final evil, and she had experiences to learn from her sons and observations. _It paid to be prepared. She had copied the Crest of Silence and deceived the three Digimon to destroy the false copy._

Now that the Destined Digimon, the Digidestined, and her absent sons were out of the picture, she had time to work painstakingly and persistently to perfect the routine of the resurrection. It wasn't easy. She had the Crest of Silence with the power to aid her digivolve into the Mega Stage and restore her solid body. She had the Black Lens that was rightfully her treasure and the source of her darkness. Everything was in order.

While she was working on her resurrection, whole new things were happening. A Digidestined tainted with a Dark Spore had 'discovered' the Digital World. He became the Digimon Emperor. He created the Black Rings, the Black Spirals, and the Black Control Spires. They worked marvelously, but of course, being the creations of a human boy, they were still flawed. 

Still, he was successful in enslaving the Digimon in the Eastern Region swiftly and without any difficulties. She was pleased. Who knows that a human would have such a strong pride and haughtiness?

Three new Digidestined heard the cry for help in the Digiworld and stood up for their oath. Their Destined Digimon had a new strategy to block the contamination that would weaken them – with Armor Digieggs. They were very ancient, used in past times to digivolve without using up a stage. Few Digimon were qualified for using Armor Digieggs.

The Black Rings and Spirals cannot enslave the Digimon while they were in the Armor Stages, and the Black Control Spires had no power against their Armor attacks. All she knew was that the Prophet was the one responsible for it. So he decided to fool around with Fate at last.

Then the New Digidestined returned to America to help the Judge battling one of his twin Digimon, Lopmon, who was tainted, mutated into Endigomon. The Brother and Judge discovered the Golden Digieggs, and their Destined Digimon were able to destroy the virus. Lopmon got deleted, but returned back to the Judge. Daematermon had a feeling that he will be involved.

As her resurrection came closer to success, the Digidestined were becoming more alert of everything happening. The corrupt Digidestined returned to normal and joined the group, although he was still haunted by his mistakes. The New Digidestined (with the Savior and Saint as their guides) tore the Control Spires down while they were forced to battle with two Digimon that were created with Human DNA, Arukenimon and Mummymon.

She was loathed with them. They were imperfect, infected with wrong DNA. But they did have one advantage that the full-data Digimon cannot have – they can travel between the two worlds. She mused about this a lot as she observed the battles between the infected Digimon and the Digidestined. She attempted to use Human DNA for her future children to have that advantage.

The infected Digimon used Control Spires to create empty Digimon, a disappointment to her. It was no surprise that the whole strategy was made by a troubled human man. This Oikawa Yukio human was also a Digidestined, the oldest one, but he never knew it. Neither did the Digidestined. He sought to return to the Digital World and stole the energy from human children with the Dark Spores.

She didn't like him. He was worse than the Judge. He messed with the data and infected it with his DNA! She herself planned to stop him at once, but then, she wondered how did he become so troubled and insane that he would do anything to return to her world, not his?

She should have known. He was controlled by her favorite son, Myotismon, who mutated himself into Myalomyotismon with the human's and the Dark Spores' energy.

No wonder she favored him, but still, he didn't learn anything, much to her frustration. He would have success to deceive the New Digidestined with his Mental Illusion, but one Digidestined, the Brother, had no troubles and successfully led the rest out of their own desires. Plus, his Digimon Guardian was capable to digivolve into three different stages!

The other Digidestined took his advice to use their wishes, and soon, twenty different Digimon Guardians attacked Myalomyotismon with all their strongest attacks. They could be successful, but Myalomyotismon was just too obstinate to give up. He sent his own darkness to taint the two worlds.

Again, he underestimated the Digidestined. Hundreds of Digidestined were prepared for this. They gave out their light to purify their Digimon Guardians, and then the light shone so bright that she could sense its power from afar. Imperialdramon easily crushed Myalomyotismon with Darkness Crush. He was gone for sure. 

Such this routine was the same as always – light defeats darkness.

But Daematermon refused to believe so. She still had other plans to prove the theory wrong. During the summer after the battle, she finally resurrected into her new Mega body, finally reborn. But she was smart enough not to reveal herself to the Digidestined. She had a lot to do. 

She was still weak in strength, and she desired to find the loathed crest that glowed and threatened that her Digidestined will return to end the long-waiting battle. She needed someone to aid her while she regained her strength. She won't make any more mistakes like her 'sons'. She pondered over this to find the perfect son. Then she found him. She had a fondness of him ever since he served Myotismon. He had the slyness, the innocent appearance, and he was perfect.

Demidevimon.

She knew that he was deleted when Venommyotismon ate him, but she was the only one who can resurrect any Digimon at a word. She was able to revive him, but remember whenever a deleted Digimon was able to hatch, he/she would be changed a bit, depending on the attitude or appearance. 

Demidevimon looked the same, but he was different in attitude. Before, he was impish, liking to cause misery for the others, but now he was scheming. He had the same mind as hers – he knew that if he became the next Villain, he will fail, but he didn't fear the light no more. All he wanted was revenge on the Digidestined. He was very patient, listening to his 'mother' of her plans, and was willing to help out.

In return, she promised him the power he dreamed of – the energy of all her nine sons, making him more powerful than her. Both knew that he could defeat her if he chose to, but he was loyal to her. He wouldn't try and harm her. He was the only one who respected her.

Daematermon was meant to be the First Evil, the first darkness to be fought by the Children of the Fallen, the one who sent her sons to battle the Children of the Nature, watched as the Children of the Armor restored the Digital World, and she will be the Final Evil, when the Children of the Digital will battle, along with a Digidestined with a sword that will end her darkness.

But it was only the beginning. Or the end? We will see.

To be continued!


	2. Sensations and Meeting the Watcher and t...

New Author's Note

To reply to Destiny's and Sky's comments, yes, I did put together the old parts with changes. Chapter One is actually the old parts of one and two, Chapter Two is the old parts of three and four, Chapter Three is five and six, and Chapter Four is seven and eight, and Chapter Five is nine and ten. Chapter Six is where everything is new. And watch for the Chapter Six because it's fully action! ^_~ Be patient, darlings.

Old Author's Note:

I want to tell about what the kids are wearing in this saga. They are wearing their summer clothes, the same in the episodes (Hint: the Reunion). I will describe what Kimika, Frankie, and Cleo are wearing.

Kimika: Dark green denim jeans, short-sleeved black form-fitting shirt that reaches to her hips with a white triangle symbol in the center, white sneakers. Of course, she wears sunglasses, green ones. ^_^

Frankie: A short-sleeved shirt, light green on the chest, white around the shoulders, and a red line across his chest, separating the green and white, baggy khaki pants, black tennis shoes, and of course, a Yankee baseball cap!

Cleo: A white hooded, sleeveless pullover over a short-sleeved pinkish red shirt (there is a blue-purple butterfly symbol on the front of the pullover), pale blue Capri, and tan sandals.

Mimi is wearing her American outfit. Why? Because she's *just* awesome in it! ^_~

Everyone satisfied? Ok, let's read!

NO! I DO NOT own Digimon: Digital Monsters. Chicobo does not own them.  You do not own them, either. Only those geniuses at Toei do. Those lucky bastards. *Sweatdrops*

Children of the Digital:

Part Two: Sensations and Meeting the Watcher and the Prophet.

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

**_Earlier this morning_**

Kido Hisoka, or Frankie as he preferred to be called as, hummed a mellow tune that he often sang every morning. He was not very keen on singing, but he was fond of this brief melody he formed on the harmonica Yamato taught him. His skilled hands shook the pan and spatula as he made scrambled eggs, his specialty. He didn't have to learn how to cook when he was an orphan, but now that the Kido Family adopted him, his new mother strictly made him to learn.

He had a new family almost four years ago. When the kids left the Digital World for the last time after the long battle, Kido Shin had took the tired Jyou and Frankie home so they could rest. Swinging between sub consciousness, Shin had heard Jyou muttering that he would like Frankie to be his brother. Knowing how close they were, Shin had a short talk with his parents about it, the younger boys having no clue what was happening. Some four months later, about Jyou's thirteenth birthday, the parents surprised him with a new brother, Frankie.

_(A/N: Say with me! One, two, three, and Awwww! ^_^)_

Frankie had adopted a new name, Kido Hisoka, but his friends still called him by his American name. He never felt so happy before in his life. Finally, he had a family as his own.

Mother was buttering toast on the opposite counter. She was the shortest member of the Kido family; Frankie was the tallest next to Shin and Shuu. He was fond of her traditions, something that he wasn't used to before. His 'American attitude' had rubbed a bit on her, and she began to lighten up.

"Jyou, breakfast is ready," Mother called out from the kitchen. Jyou was in the brothers' room, still asleep from the late night chat with his girlfriend before she had to leave for America with Michael.

However, there was no answer from behind the door, and Frankie chuckled. "That boy likes to sleep, ne, Ma?"

Mother gazed back. "Then wake him up, Hisoka. It's your job."

"Right, Ma." Frankie wiped his greasy hands on a cloth and strolled to the bedroom. He leaned on the door, speaking in a mock scolding voice. "Joey, it is breakfast time! Hurry up, or the eggs will hatch. Seriously, I thought I saw a beak somewhere in the scrambled eggs. Would it be freaky?"

Mother chuckled heartily, shaking her head at her newest son.

Frankie carefully turned the knob and entered the room. Frankie and Jyou had shared the room since Shin and Shuu had been gone for college. A bunk bed of some kind was built into the wall, closed with two modern sliding doors. On the bottom bed, he could see the sleeping Jyou from behind the partly open door, strands of his long blue-black hair shading over his face.

Frankie rolled his eyes and knelt down. "Aw, sleepyhead, wake up, won't you?" He shook his brother on the shoulder, but stopped as he noticed the boy's face. It was vague about it, but Jyou's face was always pale, even from being outside a lot to be involved in rock-climbing. It was strange to Frankie, but he thought the skin was more pale, pallid, as if sick. He wasn't sure, and he placed his hand on Jyou's forehead. When he felt the coolness, his face grimaced.

At the touch, Jyou tiredly opened his dusky eyes and focused on Frankie. "Hey."

Frankie removed his hand and smiled back, but with worry. "Hey, _Oniichan. Are you okay?"_

Jyou brushed hair from his face, puzzled with the tone of concern. "I feel fine. Why?"

Frankie unconsciously bit on his thumbnail, a habit of worrying. "You feel a bit cold. Are you sure you are not sick?"

Jyou gave him a mock exasperated face, rolling onto his back, stretching his body. "Now you are definitely sounding like Ma."

"I can't help it," Frankie quickly defended himself. "As the youngest brother, I have to annoy you with my worries."

Jyou laughed, putting his hands behind his head. "_Ototo, I'm fine. Really," he added to the worried face of Frankie. "I'm just tired."_

Frankie's hazel eyes were still on his face, scanning carefully. "I'm not sure because it reminds me of the last time when you were looking so pale."

Frankie saw something unusual. Jyou slowly sat up, his dusky eyes suddenly darkened with suspicion. His disheveled hair clouded over his pensive face, and Jyou stared at him, his gaze seemed to bore a hole at him. Frankie suddenly felt uneasy around him, as if he knew something risky.

Then Jyou broke the entranced gaze and chuckled humorously. "You worry too much. I was exhausted from talking with Mimi, remember?"

Frankie then grinned with mischief. "So what did you talk about?"

"Get out of my face!" Jyou laughed, flinging him a pillow to erase the wily face. His face turned light red, remembering about last night.

Grinning slyly, Frankie helped him stand and said, "Now, we can't let Ma eat all our breakfast, won't we? I cooked you scrambled eggs." He left out the room, fortunately for Jyou.

Jyou felt his legs buckling with heaviness that he quickly held on the nearby wall, not wanting to fall down to the floor and frightening his brother and mother. He grabbed on a chair and sat down, sighing with relief. He had suffered dizziness that left him so tired that he couldn't stay standing. He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples, thinking, _'I wasn't that tired since the last time.'_

Almost unconsciously, he began to itch weakly at his left wrist, not knowing why, but responded to a strange warning.

***

**_Later this morning_**

Together, Ichijouji Ken and Inoue Kimika ambled down the sidewalk through the seas of people and rivers of automobiles. For a less than a year, they were partners in Judo classes, being able to recognize moves without signaling, and they enjoyed the company together. It was sure that Ken would decide to give up on Judo and focused on soccer, his favorite sport, but during the last summer, he missed Judo, and remembering that Kimika was involved in Judo, he decided to join her for fun. 

The heat was increasing, and the duo was already sweating and drowsy from recent practice.

"It's really hotter than I thought," Ken muttered, fanning himself with a folded paper, which didn't help very much. "Have you ever experienced a hot summer like this?"

Kimika adjusted her sunglasses, blinking her eyes, and shook her head to her partner. "No, I don't remember. But it's not the heat that bothers me now. It's the light. It's too bright." She placed her hands over her eyes to add to the shade.

"The light bothers you that much?" Ken questioned, also shading his eyes to peek upward to the radiating sun. Strangely, the sun wasn't that bright to him.

Kimika opened her mouth to mention about her power, then immediately stopped herself. She and the Inner Circle were the ones who wished to tell the New Kids about the powers that they controlled, so they wouldn't be freaked out, but Taichi was still stubborn to let anybody know. She knew that her Light Power gave her the rare ability to see through the darkness and see emotions, but it also enriched them greatly, and they were very sensitive to light.

Kimika then shrugged. "Not often."

They continued walking until Ken remembered something. "Oh, Kim, I want to ask you, have you noticed it was snowing last night?"

Kimika arched her eyebrows in amazement. "Is that so? I was busy developing pictures from yesterday." She didn't discontinue her favorite pastime, old-fashioned photographing. She liked to take black-and-white photographs and capably developed them in her small darkroom. Hikari was the different one, who liked to take digital photos.

Ken nodded, saying, "It was strange. Wormon and I were sitting with Mama, and he saw snow outside. Mama and I thought he was playing, but it was really snowing. How could it be possible that during the hottest summer, it was snowing all the way down?" The snow had immediately melted into puddles, which were evaporated by the sun. Many people had noticed it, being befuddled, but it was a one-time phenomenon, and they forgot about it.

As Kimika listened to his tale, she suddenly paused in her tracks, her brown eyes sharply scanning around the crowds.

"Kim, what's the matter?" Ken asked, noticing the seriousness on her face.

Kimika's lips tightened. "I'm not sure. I thought I saw something."

Ken then looked around. It was too many people to notice anything, too fast to pay any careful attention. "I don't see anything. Maybe it's a trick of light." Then he saw Kimika swaying on her feet, her hand grabbing on his shoulder. "Kim!" He quickly wrapped his arms around her, supporting her.

"I'm alright," Kimika muttered, her voice shaking. "I need a rest." She went to sit down on an empty bench, and took a long inhale to clear her head.

Ken was speaking quietly, so the crowds won't hear him. "Kim, are you okay?"

Her hand went to her head, rubbing, and she nodded in the answer. "I think so. I suddenly feel dizzy, but it's gone."

"That happens often?"

"No." Kimika shook her head, remembering about the last time. That was when she felt dizziness that drained her of energy so sudden that she had no idea when it struck. But she did remember. Her hand almost went to her right shoulder, and then stopped. She didn't want to remember the memories. She glanced upward to Ken and noticed that he was looking around; he frowned as if was trying to listen for something.

"Ken?"

Ken blinked in confusion, and then apologized, "Goman. I thought I hear waves."

"Waves?" Kimika frowned. "What kind of waves?"

"Sometimes, I hear the waves of a distant ocean, like the Dark Ocean. I don't hear it until now."

Kimika was silent, watching Ken. Hikari said the same thing recently. She had heard distant waves, soft and beckoning. It worried Taichi about it because he knew about Hikari transporting too the Dark World. He didn't want that to happen again. And Kimika didn't want that to happen to Ken, either. Then she was startled by his gasp of surprise as he noticed something.

"Did you see it?" Ken voiced sharply, pointing across the street. He ignored the puzzled glances of the passing people. "I saw a flash of black!"

Kimika stood up, refreshed from her rest and narrowed her eyes at the thing he was pointing. Then she realized that it was not something. It was the whole thing. "Ken, it's only a trick of light."

Ken lowered his finger, staring back with hurt dignity. "How could you know?"

Kimika shouldered her strap bag, speaking honestly, "Believe me. I have a way with illusions." Then she thought as she scanned the scenery, _'There's something wrong with the world.' She could see that the world seemed distorted as if she was looking at the area from behind an obscure and curved window. __'It seemed . . . messed up.'_

Her fingers went to her left wrist and rubbed roughly.

***

**_After Lunch_**

The Yagami siblings were cleaning the dishes with the help of Gatomon. Hikari was skilled with washing the dishware and silverware that were cleaned of every spot and grease. Taichi was adept at drying the plates into squeaky-clean. Gatomon helped out by placing the ware into the cupboards and drawers. Mom was always proud, often because she didn't have to wash the dishes.

Dad was still working at his business office as Mom was out for entertainment with her friends. The siblings chose to stay home, enjoying the quiet company for the day. Nothing will spoil the silence and peacefulness.

The phone in the living room rang shrilly, and as always, the younger sibling went to get it. Hikari quickly cleaned her hands and picked up the phone. "_Moshi__ moshi, Yagami residence calling."_

The voice behind the phone belonged to Koushiro. "Hello, Kari. Is Tai here?"

Hikari turned to her brother, mentioning, "It's for you from Izzy."

Taichi dropped what he was doing and took the phone. "Konnichiwa, Izzy, what's up?"

"Do you mind if I can talk for a while? It's important."

Taichi blinked in perplexity. "What's the matter, buddy? You sound worried."

Koushiro made a long exhale to calm his voice. "Well, yeah, I am. I got the eerie feeling again."

Taichi became such close friends with Koushiro since ever their 'small' fights in the past, and they trusted each other completely. Taichi grew concerned for him as he sat down on the couch. "What happened?"

"Let me explain. Yesterday, Yolei received a mysterious message in her D-terminal, and she wanted me to decipher it."

Taichi was surprised. "A message? What kind of message is it?"

"I'm not sure what. It's heavily encoded. It was sent by an unknown address I'm not familiar of. I never see such code like that." He was sounding awed, becoming strained.

"Then why are you so nervous?"

"Because it's a prophecy."

Taichi sat upright, grimacing. He noticed that Hikari was watching from the kitchen, looking concerned, as well as Gatomon. "A prophecy?" he questioned. "Izzy -"

Koushiro interpreted, starting to speak rapidly, "I'm not certain if it's actually a prophecy. It sounds like a riddle, but whatever it is, the message is warning us about something. It's an omen."

Taichi wished he were there with Koushiro so he could see emotions on his face. It was hard to tell from the phone if he was sounding excited or frightened. "Izzy, let's don't get too far. First, have you deciphered the message yet?"

Koushiro was calmer. "The first paragraph for now. I spent two hours deciphering on that."

"Okay, tell me the paragraph, and we will check out if it's really a prophecy."

"Tai, I'm telling the truth."

"I believe you, but I need to hear the message."

"Okay . . . Here's the first paragraph. _'One to bear a heart, one to bear no heart, together you shall heal.'"_

Taichi wished he had paper and pen to write it down. It seemed mystifying to him even. "Is that the whole message?"

"No, it's only the first sentence. What do you think of this?"

Taichi rubbed his head, pondering carefully of the message. "If it's a riddle, it's a very confusing one. 'One to bear a heart, one to bear no heart.' That sentence does make no sense."

"There is more_. 'One to bear no blade, one to bear a blade, Together you shall harm. You alone decide the fate.'"_

"What? Repeat that last sentence."

Koushiro did so.

Taichi frowned. "Somehow, it sounds to me that it's a self-fulfilling prophecy or something."

"To me, it sounds like if someone, whoever he would be, makes the wrong decision, we are dead."

"If this is not serious, I don't know what."

"It's an omen," Koushiro solemnly voiced. "There's much more to this, and we can only imagine how dangerous it would be."

Hikari was moving close, having noticed the dark frown on her brother's face. Taichi kept quiet, his eyes glazed as if he was pondering.

"Tai?" Koushiro was worried of his silence.

" . . . With the eerie feeling the Inner Circle is sensing, the Digikeys, and this riddle . . . Something will happen. Something that we will be needed to stop." His voice was solemn, as well.

"What should we do?"

Taichi was excellent in his leadership and though he didn't like to order people, he gave decent requests that the others would immediately obey him without hesitation. "Do what we always did – saving the worlds, occurring to the information from Sanimon and this message. You call the Inner Circle, and I will call the Outer Circle. Tell them about the message and ask them for help to solve it. If the message is serious, then we have no time to lose."

***

**_This Late Afternoon_**

Cleo was seating on one of the swings, one of her favorite things to do when she was little. She would swing all day long, enjoying the breezes on her face, dreaming her own thoughts. But not this time. Her face was contorted with distress as she silently listened to her boyfriend's reports on the encoded message.

She shuddered, wrapping her arms around the chains of the swing. "Wow, it sounds spooky. That came from Yolei's D-terminal?"

Koushiro leaned against a nearby tree, his usual wise face strained. "It's strange. Why did this person, whoever he is, send this message to Yolei only? I even checked all the D-terminals to make sure, but only Yolei had it."

"So, what can you do about it?"

The redhead slid down to sit. "I did call Tai about it, and we have to find out what is the meaning to this."

Cleo bit on her lips, watching Izzy. "Red, tell me, do the New Kids have titles like yours?"

He cocked his head at her at the change of the subject. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm curious, that's all."

"Davis is the Brother of Loyalty, Yolei is the Mistress of Purity. Cody is the Teacher of Wisdom, and Ken is the Friend of Kindness."

"What about Michael? He has his virtue of Mercy, but no title?"

"Oh, he did. He told Mimi that his title is the Patron."

She rested her head on the chains. "Red, how bad do you think the riddle is?"

He answered, "It sounds too abrupt. Like I told Tai, it sounds like if we make the wrong decision, it's over."

She looked dreaded. "Yeah, I believe so. Sanimon said that there is a Final Evil coming, and so maybe it means that you have to fight it to 'decide the fate'."

Koushiro nodded. "You have a point here, Cleo. Since it's the Final Evil, what we will do to it is very important since we can't lose this time." He smiled. "Thank you for showing me that. You're always a big help to me."

 "Anytime," Cleo murmured, her jade green eyes lowered, her face tender.

Koushiro noticed the cheerless face of his girlfriend, and he went to sit down in front of Cleo, taking her smaller hands in his. "Butterfly, what's the matter?"

Cleo sighed lowly, squeezing the hands. "Oh, Red, I wish I could be a Digidestined. I wish besides knowing what's going on, I could help you fighting. I wish my Digimon could digivolve like yours."

"Oh, my Butterfly, I didn't know."

Cleo smiled, shrugging. "I guess it's a tragedy to me. I can't really help you. I know I'm not a Digidestined, but I wish I am."

Koushiro always attempted to cheer her up. He was becoming a good mentor at cheering. "Who knows? Maybe you are a Digidestined, and you don't know yet."

"Izzy, don't be ridiculous," the blond muttered sharply. "If I am, I would already know."

He stroked her hands tenderly, his raven-black eyes meeting her jade green eyes. "Butterfly, it doesn't matter. What's important is that you are finally with me, and I will never leave you. Also, you helped us so much that it's just not fair that you're not Digidestined. It's not fair to us."

"Really?" her eyes lightened.

"Yes, really," he truthfully nodded. "They told me how much they appreciated your help. They do wish you are one of us."

She cocked her head, questioning, "But I'm part of you, right?"

He grinned back. "Yes. Let's say that you are a 'Honorary Digidestined', hmm?" Cleo burst out sniggering, bowing her head and shaking it in disbelief at his good nature. "You would like it, huh?"

Cleo wrinkled her nose, sticking her tongue out, but her face supported gratefulness. "Arigato, Red."

"Anything for my Butterfly," Koushiro bent forward to place a tender kiss on her lips. Then he was a different person, lowering his head, rubbing the temples. His face was tense with pain.

Cleo held on his shoulders, worried. "Izzy, are you okay?"

Koushiro silently nodded, resting his hand on hers. "Yeah, I think so. All of a sudden, my mind seems fuzzy."

Cleo peeked skyward at the sun. "Maybe it's the heat. Come on, let's go in the shade." She putted her arm around his waist, helping him standing up from the ground. Koushiro seemed to hesitate, removing her hands, his eyes glazed at something that wasn't there. Cleo touched his cheek, trying to wake him. "Izzy?"

Startled, Koushiro blinked, and then shook his head as if clearing it. "Sorry about that." But he cautiously scanned around and squeezed her hands tighter, seeming not wanting to let her go. "Cleo, would you mind if you come with me home? I would use your help on the message."

Cleo nodded quickly, anything to get him out of the heat. "Sure, of course, I will, but are you sure you feel fine?"

Koushiro seemed to force himself to nod even once. "Positively."

Cleo glanced downward, and her eyes grew worried. "Then why are you itching your wrist?"

Koushiro gazed down to his left wrist. His right hand clenched into a claw and was scratching the skin until it was red and blotchy. He didn't realize that he was doing it. He hastily stopped itching and hid the left wrist behind his back, making an excuse, "A nervous habit."

Her heart clenched with apprehension, and she stepped close, her eyes boring right in his gaze. "Koushiro . . . Tell me what's wrong."

Koushiro grimaced, his teeth biting on his lower lip. He knew he wanted to tell her what was the matter, but for her and the others' own sake, he can't. "It's best if you don't know. I don't want to alarm any of you. Please, Cleo."

The grave plea reflecting in his eyes made Cleo wonder about his secret, but she always respected his privacy. She slowly nodded. "I hope you will tell me someday."

Koushiro squeezed her hand firmly. "Promise."

Cleo squeezed it back. "I promise."

Koushiro seemed to sigh in relief, and he drew her into his arms, embracing her closely, murmuring thanks in her ears. They both turned to leave for the apartment where Koushiro lived. He carefully glanced down to his left wrist so Cleo won't notice it. His throat contracted with dread.

_'I can feel the darkness. It's here.'_

***

**_This late night_**

She knew it was only a dream, but it was too real. Hikari found it strange. She noticed that she was wearing clothes that she normally wore in the Digiworld, the clothing her friends teasingly called a 'digiunform' that were always the same every time she entered the Digiworld. It wasn't enough to protect her from the coolness that seemed to appear from everywhere. Her long bangs were free from her barrette, and the dusky hair swayed in front of her pale tan eyes as she beheld the strange but familiar sight before herself.

She stood on a long beach with sand the strangest color of grey, not the usual beige-tan color. There were two shelves of rock, standing high on either side of the beach, appearing as long half-circles of stairways. On the right shelf, there stood an ordinary lighthouse built in pure snow-white marble, which shone a thick beam of equal bright white light, acting as a lighthouse would be. But on the left shelf, another lighthouse stood, identical in appearance, except that it was built of night-black marble, and a shaft of dark light rotated around the top, just like an ordinary lighthouse.

Hikari again looked around. The waters that crashed against the rocks were also dark, not as dark as the black light, but like when it was night with no stars or moon to shine, the waters would look dark. Above, the sky was full of grey-black clouds, seeming gloomy and mysterious in mood.

It was familiar to her. She remembered when she somehow transformed to another world, unlike the real world or the Digiworld, but the World of the Dark. But it was perplexed to her, too. She remembered that Takeru had destroyed the lighthouse that shone dark light, which ended up as a Control Spire. And also, the waves she was hearing now weren't the same waves she had heard before that gave her throbbing pain in her head.

The waves were normal, peaceful and constant, almost sounding like Jyou's voice after he had his power of Water. Hikari was curious about the scenery, but her curiosity increased when she gazed upward to the white lighthouse, something, a presence, rousing in her mind. There was someone up there, and she wanted to know whom.

She began to stride toward the shelf. She found it increasingly difficult; every ascending step she took became stiffer. But as she got closer, she noticed a person sitting by the white lighthouse, under the shadows. She couldn't see its face; it was too dark, and the white light above her didn't help at all to illuminate its face.

Hikari made a quiet gasp, her heart beginning to beat a bit quicker. What if this person was a Dark Digimon?

Somehow, that person heard her and turned its face toward her. Its voice was faintly feminine, but indistinct. "Is that you, Saint?"

Hikari bristled; her eyes squinted, trying to see the face. "What if I am?"

The person stood up, staying in the shadows. She could feel the hidden eyes studying her. "I have been waiting for you."

"Who are you?" Hikari demanded. She may be gentle and tender in nature, but her battles affected her, and she was always a bit cautious, just not obvious. She took a step back. "What do you want with me?"

"Please, wait," the person spoke, composed, not threatening. "Don't be afraid of me. I'm a friend."

"If you are, then you shouldn't be so ashamed of yourself that you didn't show your face."

The person sounded lightly amused. "Impressive perception."

"You should know," Hikari spoke, sounding every bit as the Saint. She watched the dark face with caution. "Why won't you show your face?"

The voice became pensive. "I can't It's not my time yet. But you will see my face someday, I promise."

Hikari cocked her head, observing the shadowed person, and then asked, "Can you tell me your name?"

"My title is the Watcher."

Hikari tilted her head, trying to see the face. "What do you want of me?"

The Watcher said, "I have to warn you about something. Right now, you are not dreaming, but actually standing in the Digiworld."

The girl blinked, bewildered. "What? This is not a dream?"

"No, it's not. But you must leave it before you get trapped. I will explain about it, but you must leave now."

Hikari became more nervous, stepping back. "You're trying to trick me."

"You know I'm not." Hikari stiffened at that. How did she know what was she thinking? Hikari believed her; she began to worry about herself, not wanting to be trapped in this dark land. But how did the Watcher know?

"You have to trust me," the dark figure was saying.

"Why should I when you can't show your face?"

The Watcher remained silent, except for an escaping sigh of wounded resignation. Hikari's heart immediately clenched for her; she tried hard enough to make her realize that the Watcher was a worthy ally. If she ever was one. Then something caught her eye. The clouds were swirling among each other, increasing color in darkness. They seemed ominous to her, and Hikari became apprehensive.

"What's happening?" she murmured, not to herself, but to the Watcher.

"It can't be happening!" the Watcher was sounding so upset that Hikari wanted to run to her and be protected by her, although she didn't know why. The Watcher turned to her, speaking, "Saint, you must leave now or the darkness will trap you here!"

"What? What's happening, Watcher?!"

The Watcher inhaled sharply for a moment and yelled out, "Saint, forgive me!" She swiftly raised a hand toward the girl and she experienced a blow, not a physical whack, but a powerful mental strike that pushed consciousness out of her mind. Hikari felt like she was falling down, down, down . . .

Suddenly, waking up, Hikari just caught herself from falling off her bed down to the ground. If she actually fell from her bed five feet down, she would suffer concussions. She tried to gather her marbles, wondering why was she staring downward at the floor, and then she realized. She popped into an upright sitting position, bursting out, "The dream!"

Beside her, Gatomon opened one sapphire eye from her sleeping form. Her voice was grumbling, "What dream?"

Then she heard her brother drowsily complaining from his bottom bunk bed, "Kari, can't you just stay quiet?"

Fully awake, Hikari was eager to tell him about the Watcher. She leaped off her bed and crashed upon the floor, making Taichi jerking from his slumber, furiously blinking his eyes. She shook him, exclaiming, "Tai, I saw the Watcher!"

Taichi groaned and shoved his pillow over his head, but he did mutter back, "What are you talking about?"

The sister was speaking rapidly, animated, "I was dreaming, only I didn't. I was walking on a beach with grey sand, and I saw two lighthouses. One was shining black light, and the other shone white light. Then I saw her! The Watcher!"

Taichi moved his pillow until two tired tan eyes stared at his sister. "A Watcher? You are saying that this Watcher is . . ?"

"It's obvious that this Watcher is a Digidestined!"

He stared at her for a moment. "No way."

"Way! I'm positive. I can't see her face, though. It was too dark."

 "Can you recognize her voice?" Gatomon questioned that, leaning on the edge of the upper bed.

Hikari paused, sitting back. "Oh . . . It's hard to tell. Her voice was too distorted, but I can tell it was feminine."

Rubbing sleep out his face, Taichi asked again, "What did she tell you, Kari?"

"Not very much," Hikari admitted. "What she said was confusing. I didn't really understand. But she did know my title."

Taichi rested his head back on the bed, staring upward. "Now we know something new – a new female Digidestined named the Watcher. What else could she be if she's not?"

"A Digimon?" Hikari questioned. She wasn't sure if that was possible, but there were many two-legged Digimon and as small as human children.

"Maybe she's an Unmon," Gatomon casually said.

"An what?"

"An Unmon is a kind of Digimon that have humanlike looks and no attitudes. We call them the Half Children because they are like us and yet unlike us. Gennai is one of them."

The siblings began to comprehend. "There are more people like Gennai?" Taichi asked.

The white kitten nodded. "There are others, but they are very secretive, rarely seen. Gennai is friendly enough to bond with us."

"How can we find her if she's like them?" Hikari pondered worriedly. She wanted to know who the Watcher was.

Taichi rested a reassuring hand on his sister's hand. "We will try and find her. This morning, we will tell everybody about your dream. Then I hope Izzy could solve more of the message."

Hikari knew about the message that Miyako had received in her D-terminal. She was spooked by the first paragraph when Taichi told her after the phone conversation with Koushiro. She knew no clue how to solve the riddle, and she only got bemused at everything this time, but she hoped that soon, everything will clear up, and she will know what to do to help.

Hikari crossed her arms on the edge of the bed and rested her chin on it. "I hope, Tai," she quietly said. "I hate to be helpless if something bad happens."

Gatomon was reassured as she said, "I'm sure we will be ready for anything."

Taichi stroked Hikari's hair, faintly smiling, "There's the Watcher we have to watch for, but don't worry too much, _ane. We will be ready for sure. Now, go to sleep, and try not to wake me up like that, okay?"_

Hikari giggled at her former excited mood and nodded. "Okay. Good night, _ani." She then climbed into her bed and tightly wrapped her blanket around her body. The night was too warm for anybody to sleep with a blanket, but Hikari felt suddenly chilled, and stared out the screen door. The night sky was clear, starry. She wondered if the Watcher looked at the same stars or the stars of the Digiworld. If she ever knew, she will know which one was the Watcher._

But what was that place she visited before? It seemed. . . . peaceful . . .

***

_(A/N: I don't really like how this came out. It just doesn't sound right, but **shrugs** I hope you like it. ^_^; I STILL can't change anything in this! Maybe this is meant to be. Bugger.)_

***

Below him, a small Village of Marsh Digimon was sleeping.

The Marsh Village was healed from its ghastly encounter with the 'darkness', which had heartlessly eaten some of the living data that kept the Digimon alive. Some had deleted, but something, probably a caring person, had prevented the darkness from engulfing the whole Village, and the tainted Digimon were able to regain their lost data, though still scarred with frightened memories. Most of the Digimon had forgot about the contamination that once attacked their quiet Village, and, now, the Village was slowly mending, cleansed of foulness and distress. The Village was sleeping in silence, dreams filling the Marsh Digimon's minds of serenity and purity, hoping that nothing will harm the small Village ever again.

One young Digimon was resting on a high branch of the many marsh trees that surrounded the Village as a sort of a boundary. He wasn't planning to foolishly attack or spying at all. He was simply listening. He folded his blue-black wings close to his body to keep him warm from the cool night and relaxed against the trunk, his golden eyes hooded as if half-sleep. But he wasn't sleeping, nor planning to.

He listened to the sounds of slumber produced by the Marsh Digimon below. He hadn't heard a noise from that Village for a while until he could hear faint snores and muffled grunts carried by the breezes. He forgot how slumber sounded like, since he was deleted, and lost some of the experiences he remembered from his past life.

Demidevimon closed his large eyes, the eyes that were often mistaken for angelic innocence, and buried his face in his wings. He barely remembered the memories. It was said that when a deleted Digimon returned to life, he/she would lose memories, depending on how harsh was the deletion, losing all or some. He could remember, but not very much. Still, the remaining memories were enough for him to recall his past life.

He remembered he served Myotismon, being his valuable spy. He remembered the battles between the helpless Digimon and the Undead King's army. He remembered the young human children with their Heart-Crests and precious Digimon. He remembered the 'war' in the real world. He remembered being deleted by Venommyotismon.

He slightly grimaced, shuddered at the memory of deleting. Deletion wasn't peaceful or eternal as he once thought so. It was oblivion. He was left alone in an empty vacuum, held on only by vague memories. He was frightened to let go, but he almost did. A voice called to him just before he let go, beautiful and deadly, and he woke to his mother.

Although Daematermon wasn't his real mother, he was mightily loyal to her. She gave him life. She gave him chances. She gave him revenge. Sure, revenge wasn't exactly his *big* goal, but since he was part of his mother's plan, why not and give the Digidestined a taste of his strength?

He was changed in nature. Before, he was impulsive, eager for any mischief, preferred dark mischief. Now, he was poised and wily. He knew his time will come for him to have his chance, and he wasn't going to rush himself. He only wanted to remember the sounds and sights of the Digiworld. Strangely, being a Virus Digimon, he should have no care about this world, but he held a fondness of the lands. After being deleted, he realized that he didn't experience all the landscapes, sounds of the Digimon, and if he were to be deleted again in the future, at least, he would have valuable and precious memories to remember by.

Demidevimon opened his eyes, raised his head. Somewhere, in his mind, there was a nudge; much like someone was calling out his name. He wished to stay and listen more, but whenever she called, he will answer. He spread his wings and took to the night sky. Starlight gave him enough light to guide his path to wherever he was heading for.

After a moment, another Digimon, taller and slender than him, slid from the shadows where she stood on a thick branch of a nearby tree. She was spying on him, easily camouflaged by the low leaves. It wasn't by accident. She has been watching Demidevimon for a while since she heard that he was reborn and became suspicious. She was told that he was deleted four years ago, but now that he was here, alive, she was bewildered, but persistent to find out why and how.

Demidevimon never noticed her, she being too silent. She watched the small Digimon disappearing in the night sky, and then spread her wings to soar into the opposite direction. Her wings made a low hum as she glided between the marsh trees. She chose not to follow him because she planned to report to her source, warning about Demidevimon. She was unsure if he was dangerous to the Digidestined, but she didn't want to disregard about him and regret it later.

She flew swift for a Digimon her size, but her quick-flapping wings helped her to move through air without a stir in the breezes. She headed northeast, toward for wherever she was heading to, but something caught her eye. She slowed down, drifting, blinking, uncertain if it was a trick of the starlight, but she became dreaded, knowing that it was no trick.

She lowered herself to the ground beside a Fallen Village. A Fallen Village was usually identified as a Village that was abandoned by its Digimon dwellers, mainly for reasons of attacking Virus Digimon or poor terrain, useless for crops and water. Fallen Villages often remained standing, as if was waiting for the returns of the residents to become alive. 

The Fallen Village was settled near the barrier of a barren forest, perhaps abandoned because of the lack of food. She remained a distance from the Fallen Village, couldn't get any closer because there was an air of better foulness hovering in the air around the Village. Another step closer and she hurriedly backed, gagging at the horrible odor. She noticed something else that struck a spike of distress in her body.

"Oh, no, not again," she murmured in her accented voice as she watched a small chunk of blackness slithering upward on one of the walls of the huts.

It was no snake or slug at all. It was like a blob, wetly slinking, but it was doing something that no snake or slug could do. In its wake, there was nothing behind. There should be a damp line that the blob left behind, but it was nothing at all. It was eating the wood, its hidden, hungry teeth wolfing down, but slowly, steady, as if it has all the time in the world. She could see the inside of the hut through the long hole.

The blob was part of the living darkness. It had no mass or no appearance. It gave out nothingness; seem only as a budging blackness, twisting and distorting. The blob radiated foulness, and she was angered, couldn't stop it from destroying the data that kept the Village standing. If she did nothing, the blob will eat the entire Village, leaving nothingness behind.

Then she felt movement from her left side. Being strongly sensitive to the movements in the air, she could tell that there was someone standing nearby, also watching the Fallen Village. Not moving from her spot, she voiced, "You know I can sense you, so face me."

The male voice answered back, "I don't have to." But he moved closer to stand beside her. He was slightly shorter than her, and his eyes, hidden behind a mask of black, watched the blob.

She spoke with worry, "What can we do about this? It's spreading."

"We need the powers of the Nature Children to diminish it down," He sounded frank, knowing why, but making no move to stop it.

She hugged her arms around her chest, lightly cocking her head. "But they didn't know . . . did they?"

Although she wasn't looking at him, she sensed him shaking his head. "No, but they will know."

She felt her arms shivering with building wrath, her orange eyes ablaze at the moving blob. Her wings began to flutter harder, stiffly, her way of expressing dislike. "I can't do this anymore. I can't stay hidden from the Digidestined. They are my friends, and I had vowed that I would help them anytime! I'm sorry, but I want to help."

A gentle smile formed on the black mask as he gazed fondly at her. "I'm glad you want to." Then he looked back to the eating blob of darkness and grimaced. "I will notify the Watcher that the darkness is now spreading."

The winged Digimon seemed to break down with a remorseful exhale. Her arms limply returned to her sides, and she slowly nodded. "Right . . ." She paused, turning her orange eyes to him, as if was trying to say something, but she bit her lower lips instead. Abruptly averting, she flapped her wings up into the air.

He knew what she was thinking. He had the ability to see into minds, similar to telepathy, but not quite. He also had the ability to see fears, which that he would never use against his friends. He quietly spoke, his words meant for the female Digimon, but truthfully for everybody who was listening.

"Have no worries, friend. The Watcher will be known to all, unfortunately."

***

Widening his maroon wings to keep himself hovering in a lazy circle, Hawkmon's cobalt eyes keenly explored the landscape. He was above an ocean of trees, he would say, from his outlook. A vast jungle reached for smiles with dense trees that easily blocked the sunlight with spacious leaves. He was supposed to search for something that was out of place in the jungle, but all he could see was trees, trees, and trees.

Hawkmon lowered down between the leaves until he arrived to a moderate group of seven Digidestined and Digimon standing together in a tiny clearing, the only empty place they could find in the compact jungle. Their eyes were on him, waiting for his answer.

"Did you see a Control Spire, Hawkmon?" Miyako called after him.

He responded with a regretful shake of his head. "No, I couldn't see anything in those thick trees, no less a Spire."

Iori was tenderly fingering wide leaf that was the unusual shade of pale blue to match the cloudless sky, but tinted with dirty black, the result of the weakened world from the spreading darkness from Myalomyotismon. He listened to the Hawk Digimon's reply, and he turned to Yamato, who was standing nearby, questioning," Are you are we are close? It's a new area."

The older blond nodded, half-smiling at him. "It's alright. Izzy said the he could find the source near here. His sense of direction is pretty acute."

But when he gazed back to the redhead, Yamato grimaced in worry. Koushiro was separated from the others, his raven-black eyes staring at nowhere. His freckled face was contorted as if smelt something foul that none of the others did. Ever since the group arrived to the unmarked area of the dense jungle, Koushiro began to act edgy and cautious.

Less than an hour ago, Koushiro had found a strange black block on the Digital Map that marked every area of the Digital World that the Digidestined ad visited. The black block often was the sign of a Black Control Spire in control of that area, but the New Kids had destroyed all the Control Spires. There can't be any left. So Koushiro had contacted Yamato and three of the New Kids to check the new area out.

When they arrived, Yamato noticed that Koushiro became serious but troubled. Instead of using his laptop to search for mysterious object, he persistently navigated through the dense foliage, and the group did nothing but to follow him in perplexity. Hawkmon was sent to seek any Control Spire, but he replied that there was none.

Yamato watched Koushiro making a stiff exhale and began to steer through the foliage, and the rest hurriedly followed. Iori was walking beside the redhead, asking another question toward the rest, "What if the blackness is not a Control Spire at all?"

Hikari nodded in agreement, remaining at Miyako's side. "I agree. We destroyed all the Spires. There can't be any left."

Yamato crossed his arms and answered, "If it's not a Control Spire, that's why we have to check the area to make sure nothing is wrong around here. Anything could happen, you remember that."

The group then returned to its uneasy silence, each kid and Digimon bearing expressions and emotions of angst and distress. If the blackness wasn't any Spire, then it could be something strong, something that they weren't familiar of. They only can hope that it wasn't hazardous.

Soon after, they noticed that the jungle became more barren, the branches twisted as if in pain, bearing no leaves to block the sunlight. The trees thinned, spreading, until they arrived to the boundary of the jungle. Remember, it wasn't surprising, for the Digital World supported no rules of realness. What seemed far was actually near, and what appeared perfect was essentially flawed. The Digidestined had learned not to trust reality and look behind illusions. Yamato, Koushiro, and Hikari paid no attention to this odd appearance, but Miyako and Iori were startled of the sudden change in the environment.

Then they saw a small, empty Village that stood at the brisk of wreckage. The huts were almost leaning on each other, feebly bearing them from falling. There was a disturbing feeling hanging in the air that shivered the group.

Yamato stepped closer to Koushiro and took a glance at his face. The black eyes were darting around the Village, searching for something. His nose was wrinkled as if smelt poison.

"Are you okay, Kou-kun?" he whispered.

Koushiro blinked, shaking his head. His voice was strained. "Something's . . . wrong here."

"You're right," Gatomon said, gazing at the Village with gloom. "The Village is empty. No Digimon here."

Koushiro quickly shook his head. "No, that's not it. There is something wrong."

Yamato wished Koushiro could explain what the matter with the Village and himself was. Taking a minute looking around, he then insisted, "Alright, let's separate and search around. Report ASAP, okay?"

However, before anybody could make a move, Koushiro's hand shot forward and grasped Yamato's arm. Yamato was startled as he met the bitter gaze of the redhead. Koushiro's face was stiff as he again shook his head. "No, wait." Then he cocked his head, his face concentrated, for a minute.

Suddenly, he broke in a run that alarmed the others as he turned a corner. Yamato and the others hastily chased again him, but it didn't take long. They found him standing in a clearing, his eyes on something that was totally unexpected.

First, the Digimon perceived foulness in the air that made them skid into a stop. They couldn't get any closer, gagging at the pollution that seemed to strangle the very air. The Digidestined couldn't sense it, being not tainted enough. They gazed at their Digimon with puzzlement and worry.

Koushiro was the only Digidestined present that can sense it, since the pollution had tainted him and two other Digidestined. He felt the heartbeat inside him, beating wrongfully, darkly. He had sensed it before, four years ago, and now that he thought he was free from that horrible heartbeat, he felt it again. His eyes were wide at the memory, standing in place, shuddering.

As Yamato got close to him, worrying about his sudden reaction, his mind was overwhelmed by a presence that he didn't sense for almost a year, a spirit of the dead. He could recognize it, but he was too startled to pay any attention to it since he was staring at the darkness.

It wasn't the darkness of the night that gave peace for slumber, but the darkness of the heart that gave every known sense of fear, dread, and horror to stab in the very soul. Right now, the darkness may eagerly hypnotize the helpless Digidestined and torture the Digimon, but it was flinching at the light of a touch.

Human hands covered into a beautiful iridescent glow that looked much like sunlight shining on oil in water, making bubbly rainbows that were delightful to the eye, were reaching toward the blob, as if shielding it from moving any farther. Yamato stared at the small hands, and then moved his eyes among the limbs, body, then the face, and his heart leaped with speechless astonishment as he immediately identified the face.

_Cleo!_

She was standing in the iridescent light that surrounded every itch of her small body. Her pale eyes was closed in meditation, her body relaxed. Her hands moved closer to the wincing darkness. The darkness couldn't stand the powerful light, and slowly, it shriveled pathetically, trying to distract her by sending back a needle of fear.

The blond seemed to cower at that, and the rainbow glow began to diminish. She needed assistance to remove the darkness. Lucky for her, help was present. A male Digimon, slightly shorter than her, was standing beside her ever since he called her to come. He was clad in dark green and beige-tan, easily to be camouflaged in forests. A tan bodysuit of some kind, loose and thick, covered his short body, decorated with many tiny suns and clouds sewn into the fabric. His gloves and leather boots were dark blood red. A dark green cloak was tied around his neck, its collars high enough to mask his lower face, allowing only his slanted azure eyes to see everything. His dirty blond hair was long, braided, the tips curling around his shoulders. A floppy hat, the color of dark green, shadowed over his head.

Yamato blinked in bewilderment at him. Something about him struck a familiarity to someone close to him, but he wasn't sure. The Digimon had a hand on Cleo's arm, attempting to comfort her. Truly, his sky-blue eyes were full of protection. She mental-commanded the darkness to disappear into nothing. The darkness finally gave up, and it shrunk into oblivion, unable to withstand the power.

The iridescent glow faded from Cleo's body, and she opened her eyes, seeming lightly wearied. She gratefully smiled down to the Digimon, but noticed that he was staring at somewhere else. Puzzled, she looked toward that direction. Her eyes widened at the equally shocked group, and then she stood straight and again smiled, with wryness.

"Hello."

Yamato finally stammered out, "Cleo? What? How?"

Hikari was the first one to ask a complete question. "Cleo, how did you get here?"

Cleo took a quick glance at the Digimon, but he was silent, his eyes studying each child and Digimon. She made a small sigh, and replied, "I told you I will show my face someday."

Memories of the dark beach, the two lighthouses, and the person titled as the Watcher popped in her mind, and Hikari speechlessly stared at the girl that wasn't Digidestined, but part of the Digidestined group. The Watcher was not a Digimon. She was not an Unmon, either.

"You are the Watcher," she whispered.

"What's going on?" Armadillomon demanded, standing in front of his silent boy. "I thought she's not a Digidestined."

Yamato replied, "She's not . . ." But the words were weak in strength. He gazed to her. "Are you . . ?"

Cleo seemed to be at a loss, but she quickly regained her composure. Her voice was gentle, almost apologetic, "I know you have many questions, but it's better if we leave now. Please listen to me." At that, she took a pleading look at Koushiro, but Yamato knew without looking at him, Koushiro didn't look happy. He didn't say a word, either.

Miyako was curious about the new Digimon. "Who is your friend?" she asked. "Is he your Digimon?"

Cleo gazed down to the gentle-looking Digimon and shook her head. "No, he's my dear friend, Prophetmon."

Prophetmon? Yamato thought.

He then noticed that Gatomon was walking slowly toward Prophetmon.

She was struck by a new emotion like thrill mixed with remorse and disbelief. She was ecstatic to see someone that had nearly the exact appearance of her close friend, was tragic at the memory of him, and was disbelieved that there was someone that was actually a twin to him. She stood before him, her sapphire eyes searching him for an answer.

Prophetmon had his gaze on her, seeming to know what she was seeking for. His voice was mild, serene. "Is there something you wish to ask me, little Gatomon?"

Gatomon was undisturbed by the reply that he did read her mind, and went ahead to question hesitantly, "You remind me of someone, of my friend. You look so much like Wizardmon."

Yamato blinked in realization. That was it. He was pondering how came that Prophetmon reminded him of someone, and now he knew. Prophetmon did look like Wizardmon in appearance, though the colors were different. The only big differences were that Prophetmon didn't carry a sun staff. Plus, while Wizardmon was fierce in nature, Prophetmon appeared strongly tranquil, as if nothing disturbed him.

But then again, Yamato was puzzled at something else. His power was Spirit, which allowed him to see spirits, any spirits that drifted near living people. Often, he could see them whenever they had unfinished businesses needed to be done, expecting close friends or relatives to finish them. Since Yamato was the only one who listened to the spirits, he chose to remind the living relatives of the businesses, giving no reason why or how he knew, and often left them bewildered. 

_(A/N: Yes, yes, I know that sounds much like the 'Sixth Sense'. Have a problem with that? ^_^)_

He 'saw' a deceased spirit standing behind Prophetmon. The misty figure was too faint for him to make out details, but it was there. It didn't say anything, remained silent, smiling at him with hidden knowledge. He wondered if this spirit had a reason to drift by Prophetmon. He already knew that the spirit was a dead Digimon, not a deleted one. Deleted Digimon lived again and again, but dead Digimon will never be alive again. Often, dead Digimon left the world, much like dead humans. But why did this spirit stay? It appeared that it was waiting for something.

His attention was averted when Prophetmon spoke to Gatomon, his voice soft with grief, "For now, I have little to tell you, but in the future, all will be revealed, the source of the riddle, the Digidestined, and the lives of the Digimon."

Yamato didn't understand what did he mean, but Gatomon seemed to know, for she nodded. Prophetmon then withdrew one of his hands back in his cloak, and he removed a small silver ring out. Clearly, it was a duplication of her broken golden tail ring, with digicode inscribed around, but different in color.

_(A/N: I know in the end of the last episode, Gatomon did get her tail ring from Gennai, but in my stories, she didn't. Why? Because I say SO! God, I love being an author.)_

"What's it?" she asked.

He placed it gently in her paw. "A special tail ring that you can use to call for help. I will know when you need my immediate help."

Yamato was deeply bemused of this strange encounter, and he stepped in, his face stiff. "Hold on. You both go too fast for us to understand what's happening." Cleo appeared lightly shamefaced, her jade eyes lowered. Prophetmon gazed over to him with a disturbed expression. The Guardian continued, "What's going on here, and what's this . . . thing?" He sharply pointed to the spot where the darkness had vanished. He still recalled the nothingness of the blackness, the thing that seemed to eat everything.

Cleo took a brief glance at where he pointed at, and her pale face got paler. But she was composed as she answered, "A contamination."

"Is that the darkness you talked about?" Hikari questioned.

Cleo didn't refuse to answer, but rather hesitant. Her face than took in an expression of beseeching expectation. "Please, listen to me. You have to leave here soon. It's not a good idea to stay here when the contamination is near."

The older blond was bearing his trademark grimace of displeasure whenever he doubted the words of one of his friends. He did trust the girl, although they weren't close friends. He was upset only because of Koushiro. Right now, Koushiro remained silent, his musing black eyes on his girlfriend, the girl he trusted with his own heart. He didn't express any emotion, but Yamato had learned to read words in eyes since he himself hid emotions before.

Koushiro was deceived by the trust they built together, promised not to keep any secrets, as a couple would do. Cleo kept this secret from him, she being a Digidestined at all.

Cleo did notice the silent expression on her boyfriend, but kept her eyes on Yamato, as if was too shamed to face him. "I will explain, I promise." The words were meant for everybody.

"You better explain everything, Cleo," Yamato said stiffly. "I don't like secrets. Come on, Izzy." He turned to Koushiro, who obediently turned to trail after the blond. The younger kids and Digimon, still bewildered, didn't question when they noticed the grimace on Yamato. Instead, they took glances of inquisitiveness and incomprehension to Cleo and the strange Digimon, Prophetmon.

Yamato gazed back to see if Cleo was following, but to his amazement, the small girl and the mild Digimon were already gone.

To be continued.


	3. Secrets of his Butterfly and Being of Li...

The New Kids will find their Powers in Chapters 8, 9, and 10. J You have to be patient! No, I do not own Digimon: Digital monsters. You just like to hear that again and again, don't you, you little fiends? ^_^ 

Children of the Digital: 

Part Three: Secrets of his Butterfly and Being of Life Again?

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

Hakata Cleo halfheartedly stepped in her boyfriend's room.

She always liked the room. It was always clean, which could be unusual for a typical teen boy. It had a nice scent of fresh air, the light breezes drafting from outside the open window. The bed was neatly made, as if it was never been slept in. The bookshelves above the bed were free of dust, the books in perfect order. But she didn't pay attention to the room this time, but only Koushiro.

He had his back to her, leaned forward on the desk with his elbows rested on the surface. She couldn't see his face, but then she noticed the faint reflection on the window. He was expressionless.

"Red . . .?" Cleo tried to use her favorite nickname to rouse him, but he didn't respond. "Koushiro, please, look at me."

"You lied to me," the blunt answer pushed her guilt deeper in her throat. His voice was hard, without emotion.

"I didn't mean to."

"You never told me you are a Digidestined."

Cleo bit her lower lip and entwined her hands. "If you are willing to listen, I will explain everything."

For a brief moment, she thought he wasn't enthusiastic to listen, but then he whirled around on his chair with a swift motion and crossed his arms. His black eyes were even darker than the darkness she had struggled against. He said nothing, just waiting.

She exhaled heavily, her eyes on elsewhere than him. "Okay . . ." She took a seat on the soft bed and hugged a pillow close to her chest, trying to prepare details she meant to make clear to her friends. Her voice was awkward, but somehow relieved in tone. 

"Yes, I'm a Digidestined, like you. I know Gennai said I wasn't, but he was wrong. You already knew how I got to the Digiworld and got the Crest of Heart. Okay, after than everything was the same as you told me, you returned here to fight Myotismon, and then you returned back to battle the Dark Masters and Apocalymon.

"Now, you told me about being trapped out there with Frankie. You then found your Digistones and got the burn scars. Well, guess what? I got them, too."

He expressed surprised disbelief as she leaned forward and opened her hands. He reached to touch the thin burn lines that were almost unseen, threadlike and white, just like the Old Kids' scars. The burn lines were formed into a half-heart, rugged on one side where it was harshly ripped apart from its other side, along with a tiny four-pointed star set in the hollowness of the half-heart.

"You are telling me that you did have a Digistone like ours?" he quietly mentioned.

"I got the marks when I was ten, about the same time you got yours. I know it's impossible, since the time spans were different between the worlds at that time, but it was true. That night, I woke to a voice I recognized as Dewimon. On my bed, there was a stone shaped like a seashell with my crest symbol on it. I held it, and it burned on my palms. Then, all of a sudden, I was sucked through my computer, and I got to the Digiworld. There, I first met Prophetmon, who explained everything happening lately."

Koushiro sent a moment observing her palms, then sat back, his face uncertain. "How about this? How did you get to the Digiworld without using a Digivice?"

She nodded briefly, expecting such a question. "I mean to tell you about that. There are very few Digidestined that have psychic powers, strong enough to walk the Digiworld without having to use a Digivice."

"How?"

"The barrier between the two worlds is solid, much like stone, with no doors to enter or exit unless you have the right keys. You used your Digivices to open the right doors. But after you returned here with Frankie's crest power, not your Digivices, the barriers lost the doors for your Digivices. You could say the barriers changed the locks. Because of that, you need different keys to open other doors."

"The D-3s" he comprehended.

"Right. Now, the Digidestined with psychic abilities are called Digital Walkers, or Digiwalkers, because we can _walk the Digiworld freely." The way Cleo pronounced the word 'walk' was odd; it was accented with a jingle as if by a bell. "Digiwalkers have the ability to alter the solid barrier into a watery one. We can easily slip through it without having to open any door."_

Koushiro had the light disbelieved expression as he understood. "How did you find out about it?"

"Prophetmon told me that I was capable to travel through the Digiworld with my mind. Remember when I was so sick that I wanted to escape from it? That's when I _walked through the Digiworld's barrier and met you guys. I've been __walking since."_

"I heard you said 'we'. Are there any others?"

"Kari is also a Digiwalker."

He reacted with astonishment. "Kari is a Digital Walker? How could you know?"

She made a light smile at that. "Don't you ever think it is strange that Kari has a way to know that something will happen? She does have psychic abilities, though not as strong as mine. She doesn't know that she is a Digiwalker. I'm responsible to help train her to take control of her psychic abilities, or she will get trapped. She could _walk into any world other than our worlds and get ensnared. I can't allow that to happen. I must watch her."_

He looked intently at his girlfriend with new respect. "You are truly the Watcher?"

She nodded. "I'm the Watcher of Heart. I was called that because I watched you. I watched you fighting the Digimon Emperor. I watched you fighting dark Digimon. I watched you defeating Myalomyotismon. I watched everything you did."

Koushiro wasn't astonished. During those battles, he could feel that someone was there, hidden, watching. He even attempted to take a full scan of the area to find out whom, but that person must be clever enough to escape as quickly. Iori stated that during the last battle between Black Wargreymon and Oikawa, he sensed a presence nearly, though to stand on the roof of one of the buildings. When Black Wargreymon sacrificed his body to seal the gate, he thought he heard a voice saying, "Good-bye, friend."

But he was not sure if this person was really Cleo. Black Wargreymon never had a change to become a loyal friend; he died too quickly. He scrutinized the petite girl before him, sitting cross-legged on his bed, his pillow hugged tight in her firm arms. Her jade eyes were clouded, perhaps with shame that she didn't really tell anything of this to her friends about being a Digidestined. He wondered what made her so silent about it for the four years.

He was contented that she did tell everything she could. He knew she disliked keeping secrets if they were meant to harm. She probably thought it was awful to tell her friends abruptly that she was a Digidestined after all and lose the trust from them just because she kept the secret. He wasn't hurt inside, just disappointed that she didn't tell that to him. Still, he did trust her, and he wondered if the other kids would accept her as a Digidestined. They did mention that they wished her to be a Digidestined, but he wasn't sure if they would even accept her after she lied to them.

But there was something about her that he grew curious about. He just happened to think about the Last Digidestined. If Frankie truly was the Last Digidestined, then Cleo was already a Digidestined long before Frankie was discovered. And if she was a Digidestined, which would mean that she would have . . . He decided to test her to see if she told the whole thing. He casually leaned back, saying, "The next thing you might say is that you do have a Power, but we know it's unlikely."

Cleo jerked at his words, her jade eyes meeting his eyes, and he knew. She appeared self-conscious, averting her head. He lightly grimaced, couldn't believe that his theory of her was true. 

"I can't believe it. I don't believe it. There are only ten powers to Nature! Akemimon never mentioned about an eleventh power."

She answered back gawkily, "Akemimon doesn't know two things – he doesn't know about me, and there is an eleventh power."

"What's your power?"

"Um, there is a power linked with all the ten powers, even Life and Death. Without it, the ten powers would not work together, could not cooperate. Izzy, you know about the five senses?"

He nodded. "Yes, touch, hearing, sight, smell, and taste."

"What about the sixth sense?"

"The sixth sense . . ." He contemplated this over, trying to understand what she tried to mean. Then he noticed her gently tapping the side of her head. "Oh, psychic powers, of course."

"Power of Mind," she mentioned. "Nature's not only physical or mental. It's also psychic. Psychic powers help to cooperate with the natural powers, letting them understand what the other powers need. Without it, it would be chaos. My power is general, not specific, like your Lightning Power. Let me show you."

He watched as Cleo stood up, gazing around for something. Finally, she noticed the several books on one of the shelves. Her eyes narrowed as if in concentration. Slightly, the books began to rock back and forward, and then, one by one, they slipped off the shelf. He retorted to catch them, but to his amazement, the textbooks hovered in the air, just like downy feathers. They slowly floated around his head, almost like dancing to a playful tune.

"Telekinesis," he murmured in admiration as he watched the dancing books.

She formed a small grin, keeping her gaze on the books. _'Yes, that's right, Red.'_

He jumped at that. All of a sudden, there was a voice, her voice, inside his mind. He didn't hear it, as he thought so. Inside, his mind, he couldn't hear the words, but instead saw them. It was like an invisible pen engraved her words, colored in iridescent colors, much like the glow around her before, in the thick blackness of his mind, burned for a moment, just long enough for him to comprehend the message, then they were gone, as if were blown away by a breath. He didn't read the message. He knew it, like he knew himself, knew the essence of the words. It was very queer, yet inspirational, like he was feeling her essence in his mind.

_'It's alright, Izzy,' Cleo was sending another mental message, meant for reassurance. __'I'm talking via telepathy. That's something you have to get used to.'_

With a brief wave of her hand, the floating books hovered back to their former positions on the shelf, now silent and undisturbed. She returned to her seat, again embracing the pillow. She had her eyes lowered, averted away. Koushiro made a small exhale and went to sit beside her.

He whispered gently, "Why didn't you tell us? Why did you keep this a secret from us for four years? Don't you trust us?"

She suddenly shook her head, as if denying the questions. "Oh, I do trust you!" Then she became reserved, uncomfortable for some reason. "It's just . . . Prophetmon said it's best if you find me instead of me finding you. I wasn't ready."

Koushiro wrinkled his face in light suspicion. He remembered when he took his first glance to the short Digimon, he immediately thought Wizardmon was alive at all, but he was mistaken when the Digimon spoke with and tranquility, unlike the solemnity and boldness of Wizardmon. Still, the resemblance of Prophetmon was remarkable; the colors may be different, but the appearances were much the same.

But he wasn't sure if he could trust him yet. Ever since Amayamon corrupted him, he, along with Kimika and Jyou, became a bit more wary of Digimon than the other Digidestined. He knew he shouldn't be like this since not all the Digimon were dark, but the haunted experience of being controlled by the living darkness was terrifying and pained. It affected him deeply.

"You always obey Prophetmon?" he muttered skeptically. 

She glowered at him, daring him to say a word against the Digimon. "He's a good Digimon and a dear friend. I trust him. Izzy, why do you distrust him?"

"I didn't say I distrust him. I've learned not to trust too easily. I know you trust him, but I don't see why I should trust him."

". . ." Cleo seemed to ponder with something and then lowered her gaze. "There is something else that I should tell you guys. When I first met Prophetmon, I felt friendship in him, but also loneliness. I think he's sad, but I don't know what he's sad about. He told me that he is worried for us because we have to face the Final Evil."

"Is there a way for us to stop the Final Evil?"

"Yes." Cleo then reached her hand under her white pullover and drew out the brass tag from around her neck. Her fingers lightly touched the glass screen that protected the fragile lilac-colored crest. "He says that my crest holds the weapon to save both the past and future and stop the Final Evil."

Koushiro gazed at her with sharp black eyes, appearing to measure the newest Digidestined from his knowledge of her secrets. She seemed innocent, almost puzzled of herself. "Is he serious?" he spoke softly.

"Very."

He held up an opened hand, and knowing what he wanted, she silently placed the crest on it. He attentively scrutinized the symbol of a half-heart, one side harshly ripped from the other side as if by an angry hand, with a tiny four-pointed star within. The crest had been broken in half when it was found, but it was now healed by the Warder's blood. His blood. Koushiro remembered as he closed his fingers upon the crest. He recalled that the crest never glowed before. It was much alive, he knew it, but it never did anything, not even helped Dewimon to digivolve; he was aware that Cleo had no Digivice, but the crest could glow anytime, and it never did. The crest was one of the most mysterious objects the Digidestined had ever received.

"How could this frail crest hold the weapon to alter fate itself?" he whispered in bewilderment.

Cleo was silent as she got her crest back. "I don't know. I don't know."

Koushiro gazed at her carefully, but she said no more. He was also quiet, thinking how to change the subject, for he could see that she was uneasy to talk any further about it. He then recalled about Prophetmon saying that she was a Digidestined, but she cannot show herself to the Digidestined. He wondered about that. "Cleo . . . Can you tell me why Prophetmon said it's better for us to find you, not you finding us?"

Cleo hugged herself, keeping her gaze down. "What he said is not just because I didn't tell you about myself. I was being too frightened."

"Frightened? Of us?"

"No, of myself. When I first got my power, I never understood why I was destined to have it. Then you and the others trusted me just enough to tell me about your powers. You are so comfortable, having no hatred or doubt about having them. They are part of you. You accepted them. I couldn't. It's just too hard."

He understood. "Is that because you don't want to be different?"

"A freak," she ineptly murmured.

Koushiro just smiled. "When we told you about our secrets, did you think we are freaks?"

Cleo also smiled, but with penitence. "No, I thought you had wonderful gifts. But why me?"

"Why us?" he said calmly. "That's the same question we'd been asking for four years. We don't know if it is destiny or just a coincidence. We just happen to have these abilities to control Nature. You do have the ability to control Mind, from your little demonstration. I could say we are 'lucky' to be chosen to have these powers because the experiences helped us to become whole inside. Before we met each other, we felt empty, unfinished. You seem complete when I see your power. Maybe it's the reason we have the powers – to become fulfilled."

She listened sensibly to his words, feeling light in spirit. She now wished that she had told her friends about herself earlier. She now wished she did that earlier so she could help fight for the two worlds' peace. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," she whispered lowly, almost muffled from behind the pillow.

He ran gentle fingers through her ivory hair, and then took her in his arms, resting his chin onto her head. "Now our wish came true."

"What wish?"

He furtively smiled. "The wish that you are one of us."

He heard an amused giggle from her; she knew his scheme already. She turned her gaze at him, her eyes holding affection. "Aw, Red, you just always know how to make me feel better."

He tightened his embrace, suddenly looking serious. "I'm glad. I hate to see you sad."

She seemed surprised, and then grinned. "Don't worry, Red. Nothing will take me away from you."

***

Everything he saw was dark and grey, and the citadel was as black as the empty night sky.

Demidevimon remembered seeing the place before and only once, and yet the memory was vivid. The citadel was built on the top of a cliff that was the boundary of a beach below. If anybody was down there on the beach, there was no way for him to get out of there except by sea or air. The cliff was too wide, too steep, acting like a faithful guard. The beach sand was light grey, soft to the eye, and the shore was often washed down by the black waters of the sea. Two shelves stood at an inlet in the center of the beach, each reaching for sky, facing each other. On one shelf, there was a white lighthouse, made of marble, shining pure white light, the only other color than grey and black in this gloomy place. On the other shelf, a twin lighthouse stood, made of black onyx, also shining light, this time pitch-black, blacker than the waters. 

He found it fascinating to watch the two lighthouses. To him, the lighthouses seemed so like the two forces of light and darkness, constantly shining, constantly against each other. This place was like a world without color with just black, grey, and white left to represent life and reality. 

The bat turned his eyes to the citadel on the cliff. Even though it was a citadel, it was miniature in size. It wasn't even the same as a mansion or manor, but modest and simple appearance. The citadel wasn't made of rock or wood or anything, either. It was made of the living darkness itself, made by the Daemon Mother. But the darkness wasn't the ugly, bloodcurdling darkness. It was the night darkness, welcoming and soothing. It had the same feeling of peacefulness when you slide into undisturbed slumber full of dreams; whenever you glance upon the citadel, you feel like you want to fall asleep, protected by that building, and dreamed endlessly.

Demidevimon was exhausted from flying for the whole day. He wished not to observe the building with affection, but just want to have a restful sleep, easing his sores. Still, his mother was the first thing required to see before his sleep. He went for the citadel, searching for a window or a porthole to enter. He was there only once, and he attempted to remember which one that led to her personal chamber. He noticed a small window just below the steeple and sent for it. There was no light glowing inside; the mother had no need to light to see. The dawn light was enough for him to see inside.

When the citadel was diminutive from the outside, the inside was the very opposite. The chamber was massive, the ceiling unseen because it was too far upward. The dim rays could not even touch the opposite wall of the window. It was also empty, isolation hanging in the air, except for a single throne standing in the center.

He flew forward to perch lightly on the headboard of the plain-looking throne. He could sense his mother present; naturally, she was hidden. She didn't like to be seen, not yet.

He kept his eyes on where he thought he sensed his mother, and whispered, "Mother, I'm here."

Somewhere, he could see a section of the darkness shifting delicately, as if alive, and that section seemed to take on a shape of a humanoid, cloaked by blackness, too vague to see the details. It moved forward the throne. As it slid over the dawn light rays, it seemed that the darkness swallowed them up, transforming the light into darkness. Then a willowy hand withdrew itself out from the darkness. It looked femininely human, and the smooth skin was so pale that it was ice-white, beautiful and cold. The hand was like a ghost hand, floating against the black surroundings.

The hand moved closer to Demidevimon and lovingly stroked his cheeks. Closing his eyes, he pressed against the hand, wondering how come that when she was the essence of evil, she had a gentle, doting touch. It was so strange, but the touch was of a mother's touch, tender and true.

"You obeyed me well," her voice whispered from the darkness. Her voice was warm, unlike the chilling and sharp voices of the Villains. Still, her voice was as warm as ice. Ice can be warm to you if you embraced the essence of chilliness and rejected the warmth given by the sun. The warmth from the sun was too intense. The warmth from ice was pleasant.

Demidevimon attempted to see her face in the darkness, but couldn't. He hasn't seen her face ever since he was reborn; the only thing that acknowledged her existence was the ghost hand. He had heard her words and said, "You needn't doubt me, Mother. I'm loyal to you."

"Indeed, you are," the Daemon Mother spoke like a fond mother. The ice-pale hand disappeared into the darkness. "You do know the result if you betray me."

"Yes, Mother," Demidevimon truly said with apprehension. He didn't doubt her word. She had the ability to delete any Digimon with a simple wave of her hand. She didn't, though, had said that he was too valuable to her. But she did show the punishment by forcing him to watch a harmless In-Training Digimon that mistakenly entered the territory. Seeing the small Pagumon's face full of unspeakable horror gave him shudders, and his loyalty to her grew to a greater extent. He would never dare to betray her.

Daematermon inside the darkness seemed to smile; the blackness shifted with approval, like a mother pleased to see a child obeying her rules. "Now, tell me, son, what did you see?"

He began to report with a steady voice, "The world is still heavily tainted and weak from Myalomyotismon's darkness. I doubt it will be healed any sooner, not even with the Martyr's added energy. The Digidestined are steadily patrolling the lands, had already destroyed the Control Spires. I observed that in recent days, the children are involved in rebuilding Villages more often than watching for danger."

"No commotion?" she voiced airily.

He cracked a slight sneer. "The Digimon are too preoccupied in restoring the world to notice anything else."

Daematermon didn't say more, unmoving in the darkness. He only can presume that she was thinking of something. It was hard to tell if she was content of displeased of his report. He then became aware of his sore joints and muscles in his wings from flying so long. He winced as he involuntarily flexed to stretch the muscles and caused a great yawn that he hurriedly stifled. He never felt so tired like that before, and the darkness that filled the empty chamber pursed him to take a nice doze.

But he could still sense the presence of his mother in the chamber, and he assumed that she did have something for him since she didn't depart. He spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb her, "Mother, what do you wish me to do now?"

For several seconds, she didn't answer, but then she finally voiced, "For now, I wish you to remain at my side. I will explain my plans and aid you getting prepared. I believe you will help me find the crest."

He heard anticipation in her voice. It was not a question of suggesting or pleading. It was a demand. He often wondered why this mysterious crest that he never heard of had such a great influence over her. She seemed confident, believing that she will discover it. Something about the Last Battle, she said. He was perplexed, couldn't remember the prophecies about it. But if this crest was the reason of the Last Battle that will decide the fate of the two words, she must have a reason. But he wasn't going to question her about it. He did one time out of curiosity. Her single glare was enough to freeze him to his bones.

"Yes, Mother," he said carefully. "I swear I will seek and annihilate the crest before the Last Battle."

"Make sure," she said, her voice growing warmer like ice crystals. "I cannot risk the chance any longer."

***

After he concluded his details, Koushiro watched the reactions of two of his close friends. Taichi was standing near an empty bench, crossing his arms. He had the harsh expression that he often bore whenever he found something disapproving to his thoughts. He closed his pale tan eyes and Koushiro couldn't tell if the eyes supported the same harsh look. Beside him, Kimika had the opposite expression of troubled insecurity.

Behind the teenagers, screams and yells of encouragement and challenge filled the air. Spectators were cheering for an off-season soccer game happening at the small stadium. In fact, the kids were supposed to support for one of the teams, which grouped Daisuke and Ken together. The other New Kids and their Digimon joined in, sitting on a lower bench somewhere, unaware of the absent teenagers, who had sneaked out.

It was the day after Cleo was discovered that she was a Digidestined, the Watcher of Heart, and Koushiro decided to update Taichi and Kimika.

"So, it's true," Kimika murmured with faint incredulity, as if she was almost expecting it. "Cleo is really a Digidestined. But why didn't she tell us?"

"It wasn't her time to help because she wasn't ready," Koushiro responded. "She wanted to help very much, but she was unprepared for any of this."

Kimika looked uncertain. "That darkness – has it really spread?"

The redhead grimaced. "Yes, Kim. It's starting to spread over the world again."

"Is that what you saw yesterday by the Village?" Taichi then spoke, opening his eyes to gaze sharply at him.

Koushiro couldn't resist an acidic sting that bit at his left wrist, and he restrained his right hand from scratching at it. His voice was thick, "I can feel it. It's poisoned, foul."

Kimika tucked fists under her chin, appearing smaller than her lithe height, and voiced quietly, "I thought we finally destroyed Myalomyotismon's darkness."

Taichi made a dejected grunt. "Remember, the Digiworld is still weak. It's going to take a lot of time to restore it back, even with Oikawa's energy."

The black-haired girl sat down on the bench. "I wish it is over."

Taichi cast a sympathetic glance at his intimate, and then glanced back to the redhead. "Izzy, how could Cleo ever know about the Final Evil?"

Koushiro jerked, taken back at the strange voice. He sounded hardened, intense. He knew that meant Taichi's mild temper was beginning to boil. "Well, Cleo told me Prophetmon informed her about what was happening. He's the one who sent Yolei the message."

The leader almost growled, to the surprise of both teenagers, his eyes narrowed. "How could I ever know Prophetmon is trustworthy?"

He only gazed back with astonished puzzlement. Taichi was never that irate. There must be something about what he said that provoked his temper. He visibly flinched at the blazing tan eyes, and knew that if Taichi didn't take control of his temper any sooner, Koushiro feared that he was going to unleash his power.

Kimika also noticed his reaction. She quickly stood and held a firm hand on his arm. "Tai, what's getting in you? You sound upset."

Taichi's displeasure did cool down, though he was still harsh. "I have every right to be."

Then Koushiro realized that Taichi was upset about Cleo. He didn't know what to do to convince him to trust Cleo again. Sure Cleo did lie, but that was because she had to. She wasn't ready. But neither did the older kids. How can he explain that to Taichi? "You have to ask Cleo, Tai. She will explain about this better than I."

"She lied to us," was the Master's answer.

The Warder's lips suddenly contorted into a knowing sneer. "Remember, you were the one who told us to lie to the New Kids about our powers."

The older boy bristled at that.

"That's enough," the Seer's voice knocked the stormy ire out from the boys' chests. "It's not time to quarrel over about it. Remember, we are not here to suspect Cleo."

The boys were unmoving, refusing to give up to each other. Then a sudden, muffled beeping reverberated in the air. It was just impossible because the spectators of the games were blaring, easy to drown any noise, but the three teenagers could hear it effortlessly, as if the beeping was right beside their ears. They whirled to the source – Kimika. She looked startled as she grabbed for her Digivice from her belt. Her face blanched.

"What's it?" Taichi demanded.

Her voice quavered. "It's Iyumon. She's in danger!"

"Danger at Primary Village?" When she weakly nodded, he deeply scowled, and his eyes meet the eyes of Koushiro. Abruptly, the ireful tension was forgotten. Almost in one motion, Taichi dashed down the stairs, precisely going to rouse the New Kids of the danger, as Koushiro removed his old Pineapple laptop he carried for possible emergencies, and sat down on the bench.

Eyes on the screen, he rapidly typed, seeking for a Digiport near the Primary Village. Even through he didn't look up, he could feel anxiety in Kimika as she paced in front of him.

"Kim," he tried to reassure her, "I'm certain Iyumon can manage the danger."

"I doubt it," she murmured. He gazed upward with perplexity. Kimika had serious blankness on her face as she gazed back. "I know she can handle anything, but if she's calling for help, then the trouble is too much for her."

He already knew she was right. Iyumon was one of the Digimon Guardians who was secure enough to face strife without any fear, despite her smallness. His mind raced around possibilities, and his heart clenched with concern for the Digibabies. He truly hoped they were out of danger.

Both were distracted when Taichi returned with the New Kids. They appeared apprehensive, but they were keeping their composure. Koushiro abruptly felt mixed feelings for them. He was proud that they had learned to hold their self-control and dignity midst of danger. He was also troubled that if the Digidestined were to face the Final Evil some time in the future, the New Kids would (or will, more likely) face their own enemies and suffer as greatly as the Old Kids had.

"Izzy," Taichi commanded as a natural-born leader, "You have to stay here and guard. You might have to let Davis and Ken knows what's happening."

He slightly nodded. He turned the laptop so the screen was facing the kids. None of the kids did care if anybody else was watching; protecting Digimon was too important to be neglected. Koushiro closed his eyes from the brightness as the ten kids and Digimon transported though the Digiport. Once again, he wished them luck.

***

_"Ice Tempest!"___

The butterfly Digimon fluttered her wings rapidly, becoming a bright orange haze. Around her, gusts of wintry cold air formed, squalling wildly. The gusts struck brutally at the sides of a giant Digimon. This Digimon was rarely seen in the eastern region, but Dewimon knew him very well; he came from her region of the south. Cyberdramon was a gigantic black dragon crouching on two thick legs, covered with bulky leather skin to protect from elemental attacks. Two pairs of red, torn wings that vaguely resembled bat wings were lazily resting around his shoulders. His talons were silver and razor-sharp. He had no eyes; his smooth metal mask hid them, making him appearing brutal.

But there was something wrong with him. Cyberdramons were Vaccines, and despite their fierce appearances, they would not harm anybody until they were provoked. She knew that when a Cyberdramon got provoked, hell breaks. This Cyberdramon was mad, his body filled with crazy wrath. He constantly rumbled in his chest, as if was mumbling to himself about something, as he swiped his large claws to destroy the soft buildings of Primary Village. When the Ice Tempest struck him on his sides, he paused for a moment, lightly brushed off pieces of blue ice, and without looking, suddenly aimed his Erase Claw toward her.

Dewimon gasped, but swiftly got out of range. Again, she sent another Ice Tempest.

Nearby, Elecmon watched as the butterfly Digimon tirelessly battled the strange Digimon. He had no idea who they were, but she appeared the good one to protect the Primary Village. He felt grateful for her help. He needed any help he could get. Abruptly, he turned away to avoid the violent battle and dropped his head to gently take a Punimon in his mouth. The Punimon was too shaken to bounce away with his other Baby friends.

Waves of Digibabies passed around Elecmon, clearly terrified of the sudden attack of the black Digimon. Elecmon growled stern commands around the Punimon hanging from his teeth, persuading them to evade. The Digibabies were prepared for this; fearing for any possible attack, Elecmon taught them how to evade the Village to the stream where it was safe. He was a faithful Caretaker, and the babies trusted him. 

Then Elecmon winced as small chunks of the blocks avalanched near them where Cyberdramon collapsed against a collapsed building. The chunks were not as hard as rocks, but they were very soft and easily would suffocate any Digibabies under them.

"Here, digi-brother, I will take him."

Elecmon blinked from his dreadful thoughts to his younger self, a smaller Elecmon standing before him. He was supposed to be the next Caretaker since Elecmon was discovered as a Destined Digimon. The younger Elecmon may look worried of the danger, but he was composed, boldly meeting his gaze.

The young Elecmon gently took Punimon in his month, and went with the evading Digibabies, gently pushing them to move on. Elecmon took a deep breath and turned to Iyumon, who was a distance away, pushing a few shaken Digibabies away, none too gently.

"Iyumon!" he called over the cries of the babies and yells of the two Digimon nearby. "Are you positive they are coming now?"

She answered back with an upset growl, "They are coming, and I know it! Move it now!" she then snarled that at a frozen Botamon before her. Suddenly, a tree decorated with toys around its branches was knocked down by a swipe of the dragon. Iyumon quickly covered the Botamon with her body; luckily, the tree missed them.

Anger exploded in his chest, and Elecmon bellowed out, _"Super Thunderstrike!" His peacock-tail crackled, and a screen of bright white-blue thunderbolts roared toward Cyberdramon. But, as unfortunately as it was, lightning had no effect on the leather skin. The Digimon didn't even notice._

Dewimon glared at the speechless fox with disapproval. "Stay back! He's an Ultimate! You Rookies are no matches for him!"

"You can't handle him, either!" Iyumon barked back as the Botamon mewled frighteningly in her paws. Then her eyes widened. "Look out!"

Dewimon couldn't look up in time as Cyberdramon aimed his claw for her. Elecmon horribly flinched at the solid, revoltingly noise as her entire body was smacked, and in an alarmingly incredible speed, she flew backward through the trees until she collided into a tree. She appeared lifeless, broken wood laying over her.

_"Rosetta Stone!"___

The two grey-colored stone tablets soared out of nowhere and crashed on the Cyberdramon's back. He slightly staggered at the force, and then hotly glared at where the attack came from. Suddenly, a dazzling blue-green beam of energy hissed through the air and blinded right in his eyes. The Cyberdramon make a strange sound as he faltered, rubbing his eyes.

Elecmon searched for wherever the saviors were, and then saw them, the Digidestined who returned the cry of help. Nefertimon flew in with Hikari and Taichi on her back, and soon, Pegasusmon entered in, carrying Takeru and Kimika, followed by Iori, Miyako, and Hawkmon on Ankylomon. The giant armadillo's steps shook the very ground.

"What is going on here?" Taichi demanded as he leaped off Nefertimon.

Elecmon wasn't exactly in the mood to merrily explain the danger. He growled unhappily, "You ask me? That crazed Cyberdramon showed up all of a sudden and wrecked wherever he goes!"

"It's like he was controlled by someone, but there are no control devices on him," Iyumon mentioned as she arrived with the Botamon cuddled on her neck.

"He's . . . he's not being . . . controlled."

They looked up at the strained, pained voice of Dewimon. She was covered with ugly gashes, a shaky hand cradling her right arm. It was amazing at how she survived through the crash. She appeared ready to collapse.

Kimika and Miyako were quick to arrive at her side, catching the small body before her knees buckled. "How bad are you hurt?" Kimika questioned gravely.

Dewimon couldn't shake her head, not having the energy. "I don't know . . . Everything hurts."

"Who's she?" Miyako whispered, curiously studying the blue-clad, orange-eyed Digimon with the strange accent.

"She's Cleo's Digimon. Help her stand." Kimika putted an arm around the butterfly's waist to stabilize her. The butterfly groaned, not wanting to stand. Kimika was about to demand her, when the trembling noise of falling objects filled the air. The three females gazed upward in alarm as a gigantic tree came falling for them.

_Iyumon, digivolve into Rianmon!_

Miyako gasped with panic and swiftly ducked her head, as the other friends did so. A large shadow enclosed over her, and she tensed for whatever was coming. When she heard soft strikes above her, she opened one dun eye upward and saw the lavender dragon's underbelly. Rianmon had blocked the trio with her entire body as the tree collided harmlessly upon her. She lazily wobbled her body free and raised her head toward Cyberdramon. 

Her spiked tail suddenly whistled through the air and clouted him in the face. Cyberdramon again staggered back, unprepared for this.

Miyako heard Taichi yelling, "You three, go and lead him out of here! Don't hurt him, just enough to scare him away."

She looked up and Takeru, Hikari, and Iori, along with their Digimon, went on as Cyberdramon, seeming eager to battle them, pursued after them through the trees. Miyako studied the body of Cyberdramon. Something about him was brutal, fervent, as if he wasn't going to surrender to the children. She thought it wasn't strange, but still, it was strange since he wasn't being controlled. She left Kimika whispering kind words to the hurt Dewimon and ran to Taichi's side. He was picking up a Pitchmon with gentle hands.

"Tai!" she said, "Cyberdramon looks like he's not going to give up. We should help and force him away."

Taichi lightly frowned and shook his head. "No, Miyako." His voice was strained, as if he was hurting inside about the danger along with the Digimon. "Hear me out. We can't hurt any Digimon no more. We're the Digidestined. We're supposed to protect them, not hurt them."

Miyako's cheeks reddened, and she nodded meekly. "Yes, Taichi."

Then Taichi looked at her intently, like he was suddenly finding something that was worth his attention. His tan eyes softened, then he tenderly putted the Pitchmon in her arms, she surprised and looking at him with puzzlement. He quietly smiled and spoke, "You have to understand that even though some Digimon are bad, we are chosen to help them. That's the way it is. I hope you will understand it. I have faith in you, Mistress."

Miyako blinked. The way he voiced out her newfound title was . . . convinced. She was only speechless as he again smiled and turned back to run toward where the rest disappeared along with Cyberdramon. She stared after him, puzzling at how did he seem confident of something about her. Her arms tightened around the Digibaby.

***

Hikari closed her eyes to avoid the sight of the swiftly coming claw from Cyberdramon. Luckily, Nefertimon was able to dodge from it, hurriedly flapping her wings to gain air. Cyberdramon was watching the winged Digimon with crazed intelligence that sent Hikari shivers. He wasn't a normal Digimon! She thought. Yet, Cyberdramon did not try to destroy them, though. He appeared to study them carefully with the hidden eyes as if he was learning their behaviors and stances and planning to use them against them. He looked too intelligent, but he was being controlled, Hikari was sure of that.

Ever since she arrived to the scene, she was struck by an abnormal mind presence. It felt dark and evil, but she couldn't identify the evilness of the presence. It wasn't entirely evil, but somewhat wounded, wounded in the angry emotion. The presence must be hurt in a way that it grew dark from the good side. She felt that the presence came from the light, but must have gotten injured and grew incensed, eating on the darkness instead of seeking comfort. Or perhaps the presence had lost comfort and only can turn to the darkness. Hikari felt it, somewhere in Cyberdramon, somewhere in the back of her mind. It wasn't annoying, but just there as if it was always there from time to time.

"He's too strong."

She gazed over to Takeru, who was mounted on his Digimon. He was changed, as always as she knew him well; he always was upset whenever he saw a dark Digimon. He was so determined to stop the Cyberdramon from hurting any longer. His azure eyes darkened into steel blue as he glared to Cyberdramon. He then met her gaze, his chin set. "We need more power to stop him."

Hikari quickly shook her head, hoping to reassure him. "No! We can't hurt him."

Iori spoke from below, partly hidden by his Digimon's one of gigantic spikes, "Tai said to scare him away, that's all." Perhaps he did notice the hot glare from the blond boy.

Takeru disagreed strongly, his hands tightened around Pegasusmon's mane. "I don't think we can. Pegasusmon!"

Before Hikari could yell out after him, Pegasusmon broke into a dive, Takeru bent forward on the back. The winged horse went into a yellow-white dash as he lunged for Cyberdramon. The blue gem on his mask began to glow. Cyberdramon then moved too fast. His thick tail came into a blur, and then Hikari's heart literally stopped as Pegasusmon was knocked out from the air. The boy and horse plunged onto the ground with such swiftness that she thought they couldn't survive this.

Taichi saw the horrible attack as he dashed through the trees. His legs pumped energy as he arrived to the bodies. To his disbelieved amazement, Takeru began to stir, giving out a soft, pained groan. Taichi knelt beside him, and held him so he won't collapse. Takeru's face was scraped from skidding on the ground, but otherwise he seemed okay. His eyes were clenched against the pain.

"TK, are you alright?" Taichi questioned.

Takeru weakly nodded, flinching at pain somewhere in his body.

A thunderous smack shook the air, and the boys gazed up to see Ankylomon, his face fiercely scowled, sending a Tail hammer toward Cyberdramon. The black dragon was again thrown backward by the sudden force on his chest, and he skid back for a moment. He again struggled to stand up, starting to growl with angry insanity. Ankylomon looked alarmed that the Digimon survived his attack. Iori, who had his arms wrapped one of the spikes, was clearly scared, astounded at the strength of Cyberdramon. 

Ankylomon growled back and whirled his body to whip his tail. Unfortunately, Cyberdramon silently reached out his claws and grabbed the tail! He used the speed to heave the armadillo off the ground. Ankylomon dug his claws in the ground, but Cyberdramon must have unspeakable potency that he was able to pull him into the air. He grunted as he began to step in a circle, using the force to lift the giant Digimon into the air. It took only a second, and Taichi and Takeru watched in terror as Iori and Ankylomon flew through the trees, the great body tearing down trees, until they finally came to a stop. Ankylomon then glowed with a yellow light, and dedigivolved into his Rookie form. Iori slightly stirred from the ground, groaning. He was unaware of the approaching Cyberdramon.

"Cody, look out!" Hikari's voice screeched from above as Cyberdramon's claw clenched into a thick fist and directed it in the direction of the young boy. Iori jerked at the voice and frighteningly looked up. He then screamed a helpless cry of horror.

Taichi was distracted when Takeru swiftly stood despite his injuries and darted for the boy. His eyes widened with disbelief as, with a twinkle, a breathtaking aura of divine golden-yellow took over Takeru's body, hugging every inch, touched with rays of pure white, radiating outward. Takeru's face appeared unwavering, concentrated. 

_"TK, NO!" Taichi blared as he realized what the boy was going to do._

Iori did notice Takeru's glow. He was too shocked to speak, frozen in place, again unaware of the coming fist toward him. He was too captivated by the heavenly aura that surrounded the long-limbed body of his partner. Since their Digimon were DNA-digivolved, that, in a way, bonded Iori and Takeru, too. Somehow, their hearts had begun to simultaneously beat, becoming one musical heartbeat of hope and wisdom. They could sense each other from a short distance, knowing what the other was feeling in an instant. 

Iori felt something different about Takeru's heartbeat inside his chest. The heartbeat became . . . holy, energetic. _As if Takeru's heartbeat was not his, but of an angel._

Then he heard his voice, also different from Takeru's gentle tone, ringing out, _"Being of Life!"_

Takeru's hand, which was outreached, began to brighten with a thick golden-yellow light, and somehow, Iori felt a _yank somewhere inside him, feeling his life being __touched by that glow. A gigantic beam of pure white light with golden spirals that twisted around the beam fired out from his hand and soared toward the fist. Iori covered his eyes from the brightness as the beam silently, easily slid over the fist and dissolved it. Cyberdramon stared at the stump with bafflement and then made a brief yelp of surprise. With that, he then disappeared through the trees, perhaps knew better than battling with that strange angelic boy with the golden aura._

Iori blinked with bewilderment as Takeru arrived, his aura fading into nothing. Takeru appeared plain without the beautiful aura and he seemed exhausted out of his energy. He was clearly worried as he knelt beside him. "Cody, are you okay?"

Iori's young mind tried to comprehend what happened, and he slowly nodded. "Yeah . . . I think so." His emerald eyes then met Takeru's azure eyes and he questioned with childlike awe. "What happened to you?"

Takeru made a small sigh, closing his eyes, and shook his head. "It's not important now, Cody. What's important to me is that you are safe now." He then gazed back to where Taichi was standing under the shadows. Patamon was resting in his arms, exhausted from the attack, his eyes closed. But what struck Iori about Taichi was that he looked unhappy. His face bitterly scowled and his tan eyes somehow blazed with inner fire, glaring at Takeru. Takeru visibly trembled and bowed his head, as if shamed. Iori wondered.

Taichi then heard running footsteps, and turned to see Kimika coming to his side. She was astonished, but then became composed, almost troubled of the sight. Taichi caught something purple in the trees, and, to his disappointment, saw Rianmon stepping in with Miyako and Hawkmon, sitting upon her back. Miyako's eyes were wide with amazement as she silently watched the boys. Hawkmon shared the similar expression.

Taichi didn't lose the scowl and he glanced at Kimika.

Kimika's eyes were half-closed when she noticed his face. She then glanced to the children, and nodded, whispering, "Yes, we saw everything."

Taichi noticeably struggled with resentment, his jaw square.

"Tai, you have to accept it," Kimika spoke, appearing tired. "We know this will happen sooner or later. We cannot hide it anymore. They will find out. Even you know that."

Abruptly, the tall boy departed, too stubborn to listen, as the black-haired girl sighed, her brown eyes watching the boys.

To be continued.

Now that Takeru's power is known to the New Kids, what could happen to the Digidestined? Will the New Kids accept or reject them? Find out in the next part of 'Children of the Digital'!

*whacks!*

Debbie: Get out of here, Annoying Narrator!! Geez . . . 


	4. The Last Crest's Light

A/N:

*Grabs on a Bazooka and points it toward you* Now, don't ever make me say the disclaimer. EVERYBODY knows that I DO NOT own Digimon: Digital Monsters. Otherwise, I would not dub the Digimon Movie just because it has to be 'American'. *Fires a missile at Saban** DUB THAT! ^_^;;;

Children of the Digital: 

Part Four: The Last Crest's Light

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

"Greetings, Watcher."

I gaze upward from my musing thoughts to the familiar voice of Prophetmon. I know he is there, after all. I can sense him long before he speaks out the words. Still, his appearance surprises me. He is no longer covered with his cloak of blackness. The colors that decorated him seem outlandish. I suppose that now that the Digidestined know about him, he must have chosen not to hide himself. I wonder why since he told me that he's too precious to the worlds, as I am to the worlds, and needs to remain nameless. 

Maybe he has a reason.

I only smile back to his words. 

Prophetmon cocks his head at my silence, but doesn't question it. Instead, he says, "I was informed that the Savior saved the Teacher's life."

I nod once, turning my eyes to my finger, which is tracing something in the dirt. I have no idea what I was doing; I was musing so much over the recent events that my mind drifted. "Yes, with his power," I finally reply back. I am surprised at the fatigue in my voice. "Now everybody knows."

"Do you resent it?"

My finger pauses in tracing, and I meet his gaze. His azure eyes are too soft for me to understand why he felt that way. My power of Mind may be intense, but I just couldn't see inside his mysterious mind. His mind is too complex. I reply, "Well, everybody is pretty upset about it, but personally, I think it's important that the New Kids know about it. They will get their powers, anyway, so they have to learn to accept the fact of us having powers, or they will resent themselves."

Prophetmon nods with understanding, and he goes into a comfortable sitting position in front of me. I was sitting beside the white lighthouse, waiting for him. The bright white light touches his clothing, giving the appearance of snow upon his limbs. Beyond us, the black lighthouse continues shining the dark light in silence.

"It will take time, Watcher," he reminds me. "Just like you took time to accept your powers."

"I know."

"Now, have you yet informed them about the D-3s?"

I again shake my head, answering, "No, but I promise I will. I will tell Tai and Matt about the D-3s in a couple of days." 

I then look down, letting my mind drifting, as my finger resumes tracing the something I was trying to remember. Prophetmon says nothing, also watching my finger. My finger begins to form a familiar figure of an 8 in the grains, forming grooves until it seems permanent, engraved in the dirt. I blink in realization. That figure . .  It reminds me of my dream . . .  The 8-shaped figure is - no, it's not the shape of an eight, but the shape of infinity, one twisted circle that contorts around the middle. The key . .  Infinity is the key . . .

I let my face frown and whisper, "Prophetmon?"

Prophetmon turns his azure gaze to me, waiting. 

I then pull my legs to my chest, hugging them. I sound grave as I inquire, "Tell me one thing. Can you really _see_ the future?"

Prophetmon forms a small smile around his eyes; I cannot see his mouth, for it is hidden by the high collar. "No, I cannot see the actual future, but only the future that could happen whenever we choose a particular path to affect it."

"So what happen if we don't take action to fight the darkness?"

Prophetmon appears troubled, the first emotion I have seen in a long time. He seems disturbed as he tries to find the words to explain his predictions. Then his voice is thick with dejection, "Blackness. Oblivion. Nothing."

I then lean my head against the lighthouse's wall. "Well, of course, it will be dark. If we don't fight the dark Digimon, the worlds will be destroyed."

To my surprise, Prophetmon is shaking his head. His azure eyes are somehow haunted with some inner knowledge. "No . . . Even if you did not take action, you will, eventually. You were destined to fight and protect us. But this time . . ." He closes his eyes, bowing his head. "It's different from what I saw. If you fight yourself instead of the darkness, we will have no future at all. You have to fight the past to save the future."

Confused and sympathetic, I put my hand on his shoulder. He feels warm like human skin, not with electric heat as Digimon have. He feels _different_. Prophetmon gazes up, again with composure in his face, as if none of these emotional moments happened. "I cannot say anything more of this. It's something that you have to find out on your own." He lightly pats my hand and stands up. He takes a brief look at the Black lighthouse and quickly turns back as if the black lighthouse pains him.

I ask with worry, "But what can we do if we don't know what to do?"

Prophetmon gives me the most curious expression I've received. He appears stunned, saddened, and . . . disgruntled? I am totally surprised at him, but he then puzzles me by saying, "The answer is already in front of you." Then he leaves.

I sit there, perplexedly. What did he mean; the answer is front of me? I look forward, and my eyes meet the light of the black lighthouse. The answer is that? I once questioned Prophetmon of the meanings of the lighthouses, and he replied that they symbolized the two sides of fate - the eternal light and the ageless darkness. Much like . . . God and the devil. But how could those simple-looking lighthouses represent them? The black lighthouse doesn't look evil. The white lighthouse doesn't look holy, either. They just look ordinary.

My puzzlement growing, I look down, and again my eyes meet the eight-shaped figure my finger has been tracing in the dirt. The key . . Infinity . . .

***

She made an unhappy frown on her soft face as she pulled her legs to her chest. She tightly wrapped her arms and tried very hard not to listen to the quarrels around her that her friends began.

Cleo flinched at the intense mind-emotions whirling in her mind. She called them mind-emotions because she could sense sensations of people inside her mind that she received from any thought. Right now, passionate and fanatical mind-emotions were darting around in her mind, and she couldn't handle the pressure. It was like her mind was too full, threatening to strain the 'boundary' of her mind. 

She could sense _colors_ of every emotion, much like Yamato 'smelling' souls' colors and energies. The emotions were heavily orange and red, the colors of fury and doubt, lined with dour bluish-grey. The bustle of emotions was very nearly driving her insane. She was not fully trained in her mind power, not yet learning how to handle the sensitivities of mind-emotions without get affected. She was truly upset and anxious as she suffered listening to her friends.

"Tai, I don't like the way you rebuke my brother for using his power wrongly," Yamato almost growled like a wolf, his normal grey-blue eyes hardened into steel blue. The night-blue mind-emotions that she could easily identify as his were pulsating stiffly with bold orange anger. He looked sour, enraged as he coldly glared at his leader over the table between them. "You saw him! He saved Cody's life. How could you tell him that this is wrong?"

Taichi did appear hot blooded in appearance, but he was controlled in his temper. His burning mind-emotions were forced, wrapping with self-control so they won't get out of control. He was also standing in front of the table, his arms crossed. His voice was crackling, clearly like wood crackling in the heat. "Even so, we all agreed not to use our powers anytime -"

Frankie interrupted him. He abruptly stood up from his chair that startled Cleo, his pure white mind-emotions bursting like ice breaking into tiny bits, piercing her mind painfully, and he barked like a fox, "Unless it's urgent. _That was urgent! _Cody was in danger, and you could have done the same."

It was amazing to Cleo when her friends' mind-emotions were so much like their powers. It was like the Digidestined's mind-emotions were no longer human - _well, it would be misleading_, she remembered. The mind-emotions _were_ human, but they were almost advanced from the normal mind-emotions, the powers modifying the minds to adjust with the abilities. She could sense the pure energy of Nature _pulsing_ through the mind-emotions, so profound that she felt like she _was_ Nature. 

Her mind was swiftly relieved by the rippling voice of Jyou. His soft black mind-emotions were very tranquil like a still river, but smeared with slight frustration, as Jyou spoke, attempting to calm the three boys. "What Tai is trying to say is that we have worked hard to keep this secret for four years, and now that the secret is out, we don't know how the New Kids react to it, and we don't want to take the risk."

"So you don't trust them at all," Kimika whispered from her side with Koushiro. She looked very remote, pensive, but her soft face was lightly twisted with anguish. Her pearl-silver mind-emotions were also distressed, distantly glowing with dismayed radiance.

Sora glanced at her with a light frown of dislike. Cleo could sense her blood-red mind-emotions steadily gusting with a low whisper, but the sound was increasing in loudness. "Kim, that's not what we mean."

"No," Kimika shook her head, looking up. Cleo almost closed her eyes from the blindness before she stopped herself, realizing that the blindness was coming from the black-haired girl's mind-emotions inside her mind. "Even since we got our powers, we stood by each other, helping overcoming the hardships. Now, we already told Cleo about the powers. Why? Because we trusted her, despite the fact she wasn't a Digidestined and she didn't have a Digivice. We trust her, no problem. Why can't we trust the New Kids?"

Cleo shifted uneasily, closing her eyes, not liking the way the subject shifted to her even for a brief moment. She tried to be composed as she sensed her boyfriend's mind-emotions. His vivid violet mind-emotions were lightly charged with tiny bolts and full of unhappiness as he spoke, "She's right. They are like us in many ways. They already faced their ultimate evil and proved their worthiness and faith. But of course, they don't have 'powers'." His voice became bitter. "In your point of view, they wouldn't understand the reasons."

"It is too risky to let them know now," Taichi frustratingly explained. "They are too young to understand the hardships we had been through to earn our powers."

"Too young?" Yamato snapped with fury that stung her mind. "We were younger than them when we got the powers!"

Cleo suddenly slapped her hands over her ears; her mind was hurting so dreadfully from the uncontrolled mind-emotions. "Stop!" she cried. "Stop it!"

The other Digidestined silenced down, not expecting the sudden burst from the youngest girl. Their mind-emotions swiftly moderated down into light emotions of full astonishment and new concern. "Cleo, what's the matter?" Frankie finally spoke, his eyes paling.

Cleo withdrew her hands and looked at each of her friends. Her mind lessened in pain, and she felt almost heavy from the misery of her own thoughts. She whispered, "Please, don't fight." She was surprised that her eyes were misting; she barely cried. "You were arguing for no reason. I don't want to see you fighting just because TK saved Cody's life. It is meant to be. The New Kids _will_ know about our powers, but you shouldn't fight at all. If you do, the darkness will separate us. It will! Please . . . don't fight."

"Cleo . . ." Koushiro murmured, go to seat beside her and wrapping arms around her shoulders. His comforting mind-emotions placated her. "We're sorry. We are behaving immaturely."

Taichi's eyebrows crossed. "I don't think -"

"Enough," Frankie again stopped him. Cleo was lightly shocked at the bitter mind-emotions of the russet-haired boy, and she glanced closely to him. Frankie was continuing to Taichi sternly, "I don't want to hear anything more of this." He then gazed to Cleo, questioning seriously, "Tell us what we should do about the powers. Should we tell them or not?"

Cleo was dumbfounded. Frankie was asking her for advice? She knew it that Taichi was the leader around her. She _knew_ he knew it! Taichi was the destined leader of the Old Digidestined, and he already proved that many times. She nervously gazed at Taichi, and he was looking away, a light scowl on his face. His mind-emotions were subtly burning like a tiny candle flame in the back of her mind, warm, not scorching. 

She turned to Frankie and replied reluctantly, "Don't ask me. I hid my power from you and you trusted me all the same. The New Kids are like you in personality and heart. You decide whether they will understand or not. Please, just don't fight."

"We won't," Kimika said, slightly smiling. She genuinely gazed at the rest, expecting them to follow her words. Knowing that the Seer was right, they nodded with honesty and with a bit of humiliation. Their mind-emotions were humbled, too.

Yamato closed his eyes, appearing relieved, but still edgy, worried. "There is one situation - Primary Village. It needs help rebuilding. Who wants to go?"

"I will go," Frankie answered. His eyes clouded with remembrance. "I haven't seen Elecmon for a while."

"I can help him out," Sora suggested. It was not surprising, for Frankie and Sora were close friends.

"Cleo?"

She gazed to Frankie. "Yeah?"

"Why won't you help us?" He then grinned with his usual impishness. His icy mind-emotions slightly warmed, but never completely hot, for his power was Ice. This time, the mind-emotions were welcoming. "You are one of us, and that means you have to suffer calluses and splinters helping rebuilding."

Cleo couldn't help smiling at him. She bowed her head lightly in respect to him. "I would love to."

Still smiling, Frankie took a glance at Taichi. "Alright with you?"

Cleo risked another glance to Taichi. He was looking straight at Frankie, the scowl gone. He looked reflective as if was musing over something. He only silently nodded, no smile on his face, and no expression of esteem at all. Cleo's heart began to weaken with angst, and she didn't know why. Something inside her remembered. Someone inside her remembered. A scared, little girl inside her remembered. Remembered about the anger and grief that has forever plaguing her heart.

_She whirled her head, her sapphire eyes wide with horror . . ._

_Her brother shrieked out something, running toward her . . ._

_A girl also ran with him, her coal black eyes darkened with something . . ._

_Two boys stood together, one's face streaked with wet tears, and the other shouting with disbelief . . ._

_She stepped back . . ._

_She shouted out something . . ._

Cleo shivered.

***

"Hold on, Yolei," Michael stopped her with a raise of his hand. He was clearly astonished as his ice-blue eyes widened at the marvel of the thirteen-years-old girl's tale. "Tell me again about yesterday."

Miyako eyed the American over her round eyeglasses with mock exasperation. She was sitting cross-legged on a high beam that was fallen from the battle yesterday. "Michael, I already told you twice!"

He flashed a quick grin. "I know, but I want to hear it again."

Miyako's usually positive face was deeply thoughtful as she said, "TK glowed just like that. He made a weird kind of beam."

Daisuke made a suspicious snort that took the attention of the older kids. Like before, he played with the Digibabies, being their favorite playmate, tossing around a soccer ball. He hurled the ball toward Veemon and then gazed back to Miyako with the expression of wondering skepticism. "You must have dreamed it, Yolei," he said, shaking his head. "It's impossible."

Miyako rolled her dun eyes and gave him a glower. "Cody already told you about it, and your eyes were popping out. Don't tell me you didn't believe it. All of this is absolutely true."

"Seriously?" Michael now questioned quietly with true curiosity.

The lavender-haired girl became silent as she recalled the incredible scene she had witnessed. She attempted to figure out what was happening, but not even her imagination could ever comprehend it. Her voice softened. "Cody was in utter danger. None of us was close enough to rescue him. Poor Armadillomon was too hurt to even stand. TK just ran for him, glowing with a yellow light, like it was all golden. It was like an angelic light around him. He saved him with that incredible beam of white and golden." 

Her voice dropped, remembering the _yank_ of her life as she, mounting upon Rianmon, beheld the scene. She could still remember the lively, powerful pull that Takeru seemed to hold on, and she felt that her life was somehow connected with everybody else. She couldn't explain that, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she could _almost_ sense heartbeats that Takeru had putted, sensing the laid-back heartbeat of Michael and the energetic beat of Daisuke. Sure, she could sense Hikari's steady heartbeat because they were DNA partners; even now she could feel Hikari inside while the younger girl was in the Real World. But when she began to sense the boys' heartbeats, it totally surprised her. Perhaps when she saw Takeru's glow, the yank of her life pulled into his and Iori's lives to become connected, somehow.

She shook her head clear from the musing thoughts and continued, "I can't tell what did it really happen. It was like a burst of pure energy."

The boys were quiet, eyes musing at the details of the battle. It was no doubt that they did believe her story. They already learned that anything could be possible in the Digiworld. Daisuke held the expression of complete wonder even for a brief moment before he lightly frowned. Michael appeared reserved about something, his ice-blue eyes remembering about his own time.

The American broke the silence, "Did Tai or Kim say anything?"

Miyako bit her lower lip and replied, "Tai looked really upset, and Kim appeared troubled. It seemed to me, also, that Kari was very frightened about TK. It was really confusing yesterday."

Daisuke appeared somber, unusual for the energetic boy. His dark tawny eyes narrowed. "Do you think the older kids know anything about it?"

She made a half-shrug, fingering the beam of which she sat upon. "Must be. Tai and Kim didn't go ahead to answer our questions. It was like they were hiding it."

The bronze-haired boy made another deep frown. "Why could they hide it from us? We don't hide anything from each other."

"That's strange of them," Michael agreed, putting down the hammer he has been using to nail up a wall. He cocked his head. "They don't trust us."

Daisuke turned his head to eye the three older kids were at one of the newly built wall. They were painting bright colors, creating comical splashes and crazy smears. Around them, Digibabies readily ordered them how to paint.  "Let's find out if they do trust us or not," Daisuke burst out, then, with that, he went to a determined walk toward the Old Kids.

"Davis!" Miyako called out in surprise, hesitant to rouse up a secret that would be painful to them. But she admitted it, with a brief glance to the other boy, that she was truly curious. With Michael at her side, Miyako followed Daisuke to the Old Kids. She was surprised at Daisuke's boldness. She knew that Daisuke may be mulish in his personality, but once he set his mind on something, it was nearly impossible to get his attention away from it. He was persistent and often she admired him for it.

Daisuke casually sat on a fallen tree that was laid nearby. Frankie was silently smearing the wall with his wide brush; he was a skilled artist and enjoyed to create pictures with his hands. Sora was standing beside him, patiently gliding her brush. Cleo was sitting on a tall stool, using a tiny brush to create small comical faces of the Digimon she had encountered.

"Frankie?" Daisuke voiced out. "May I ask you a question?"

Frankie paused in painting, and gazed over to the boy. "Yeah?"

Daisuke's face was firm as he asked, "It's about TK. How did he make that beam of energy?"

It was almost expected to Miyako when she saw the reactions of the older kids; that must mean that they _did_ know. Frankie didn't reply the question; his hazel eyes suddenly darkened, meeting Daisuke's eyes. Sora gave out a physical startle and nearly dropped her paintbrush. Her amber eyes were slightly wide, her lips thinned. Cleo only sighed softly and watched the group with sudden concerned eyes.

Daisuke didn't react if he noticed the reactions of the kids, keeping on querying, "Was that true? Did TK really do that?"

"Davis, we didn't think it is impossible," Sora spoke with a weak smile. Miyako was suspicious at the struggling quaver in her voice; it sounded like Sora was attempting to cover it.

"You don't think, Sora," Frankie bluntly said back the sentence that made the chestnut-haired girl blush slightly red. Turning to the bronze-haired boy, he continued with a half smile, "Yeah, it's true. But it's an extremely long story."

Michael went to his 'Protector', as he already knew some time ago. "We want to know why you didn't tell us about your secrets. That if they are really secrets."

Frankie lightly leaned forward, his hazel eyes searching Miyako, Daisuke, and Michael, revealing unusual pain that the younger kids never had seen before. "Do us a favor. Someday, we will explain every detail that you were being rejected from, but not now. We have a duty, and that's helping rebuilding the Villages. Taking care of the Digibabies is more important than our powers." The two boys blinked at that. Powers? "We will tell you all about it. Even if not all of us agree to tell, I will personally tell you, of course."

"Frankie, you wouldn't!" Sora protested, and then flushed at the conscious gazes of the young kids.

He ignored her, but the slight flickers of his eyelids confirmed that he did hear her. He kept his gaze unwavering. "Don't ask questions for now, ok?"

"Ok," Miyako spoke for everybody, her arms aikido. "But we would like to know."

The russet-haired boy nodded. "You will know, I promise."

For a while, Cleo was quiet, seeming to muse out of her mind, but more of listening to something that none of the rest paid attention to. Cleo was smiling happily and voiced out that got the rest's attention, "Listen, I want you to meet three of my close friends, although some of you already know them." With that, she leaped off the stool and jogged around the corner. It didn't take her long, for she now walked back, with two humanoids by her side, and two small creatures perching on the shoulders of one.

The humanoids became clear, and they were actually Dewimon and a young boy chatting quietly with Cleo. A bit taller than Cleo, he was about Daisuke's age of twelve, looking strongly familiar. He wore a short-sleeved open maroon jacket over a plain white long-sleeved shirt, denim shorts, and red sneakers. His hair was spiked and short, the color of flaxen, and his alert eyes were cobalt blue. He then waved shyly as Daisuke and Miyako abruptly recognized him.

"Willis!" That came from Daisuke, who was astounded. He ran toward him and grabbed the blonde's hand. He grinned gleefully as he read details of the first American friend he had discovered. "I can't believe it! How long had it been since?"

Willis smiled, which was rare for him due to his troubled past, but the smile was jovial in a calm way. "Too long." He turned to the group who arrived and gave them another smile, this time plain and wary, unlike the friendly one to Daisuke.

He was a cautious boy unlike the cheerful youngster he was before his twin Digimon appeared before him in his private computer. He was extremely smart, much like Koushiro and Ken, involved in honored classes and even was tutoring college kids. He had a good life at his family's farm, used to be solitude and reserved, being an only child. That was his life before Terriermon and Lopmon came into his life. He finally had friends and he loved every minute of it. For half a year, when he was eight, Willis and his Digimon enjoyed doing chores together, playing pranks on his families; His parents guessed that they were some kind of farm animals and accepted them.

When he attempted to create another Digimon on his computer, he didn't realize that his life changed from that instant. He grew attentive and distant; afraid to make more friends in fear that his tainted Lopmon would take them away. The only friend he had was Terriermon and even he knew that the life for them was not as great as Willis wished. That was until he met Daisuke and his group of Digidestined. They proved their warm friendship by standing beside him whenever he felt lost from the battles with Endigomon. Willis felt his confidence coming back, and he cherished the friendship for a year even when he didn't have a chance to see his new friends again. He may be modest and guarded, but the friendship of the New Digidestined taught him about justice.  

Cleo grinned as she introduced, "Guys, meet my good friends Willis Rose from Colorado of the United States of America, and his twin Digimon, Terriermon and Lopmon."

The New Kids already knew Terriermon and exchanged cheerful hellos. They then noticed a twin Terriermon; only that he was smaller and different in appearance. Instead of one horn that his twin brother had on his head, he had three horns set in a triangle, and his fur was dark russet with reddish-pink markings. His black eyes were bright in curiosity, but he timidly hid behind Willis's head.

"Lopmon, why won't you say hello?" Willis gently murmured, as if the young Digimon was infantile. Lopmon only waved a tiny paw and lowered his eyes in coyness.

"Why can't he say anything?" Sora questioned in concern. 

The blonde boy made a shrug as he gazed protectively. "He's mute. The virus affected him, and now he can't talk." But he made a brief laugh that eased the group's worry of the boy. "That's alright. Lopmon finds it enjoying because he could keep any secret from us. He likes to play pranks on us." Lopmon then nodded with shy delight at that.

Frankie questioned him, "How did you know that we are here?"

Willis glanced at Cleo before saying, "I want to see Davis and the rest, having heard so much from Cleo about saving the world and all, and she called me to come here."

"But how did you get to know each other?" Miyako asked. "And how did you get here without a D-3?"

Willis only smiled slightly as Cleo explained, "Willis is a Digital Walker like me." The New Kids already knew; once the Old Kids told them about Cleo being a Digidestined, Cleo chose to tell them about her abilities as a Digital Walker _(She was 'forbidden' to tell them of her power, just like the rest). _The New Kids were fascinated at that, asking many questions about it, and Hikari was also surprised when she found out that she was actually a Digital Walker.

Cleo continued, "I first met him when he entered the Digiworld without knowing it, and I recognized him as one of the Digiwalkers. I decided to help train him, and, guys, remember that I didn't tell you about myself being a Digidestined until recently, so Willis and I were actually keeping all of this a secret. But now you know."

Daisuke grinned back to Willis. "Either way, I'm glad to see you again."

He nodded, smiling likewise. "Me, too."

The group turned to a mock cheerful voice of Elecmon as he showed up at Frankie's side, his teal eyes narrowed. "Sorry to break the reunion, but will you someday help rebuilding the Village?"

The aggravated gaze from the fox Digimon reminded the group of their promised duties, and they shifted guiltily, grinning sheepishly. Frankie was the first one to laugh off the uneasiness. "Yes, Fox Ears, we will." He then clapped his hands. "Come on, let's go before Elecmon scrapes us to death."

The kids scattered to work, Willis chatting quietly with an animated Daisuke and Miyako as Michael listened to the conservation in silence. The Old Kids were walking toward the painting job when Sora determinedly stopped Frankie by a hand on his chest. Her amber eyes darkened into molten golden as she glared at her. Cleo was quiet, stepping back, knowing better not to interpret.

"You know you can't tell the New Kids unless we all agree," she reminded firmly.

Frankie gave her an exasperated glance, but removed her hand gently. "Give it a rest, Sora. I know it is right, and I ain't letting Tai make my decisions, and neither will you."

Sora's frown deepened, but then it vanished when the girls noticed the older boy's face contorted into an apprehensive expression. Sora blanched. She knew the look very well. Like the other Old Kids, Frankie had hidden abilities that no other people were able to sense. He was the only one to sense oncoming danger just before it attacked. That was the look of alarm she knew very well.

Frankie whirled to the New Kids, shouting all of a sudden, "LOOK OUT!"

The New Kids heard his scream, and turned to him in startled puzzlement. An instant later, the ground unexpectedly trembled with a loud groan. A roar filled the air, sounding so fierce and infuriated that the kids and Digimon slapped their ears at the horrible roar. Some of the Digibabies began to wail. Cyberdramon stormed in, wildly flailing his huge arms, one ending up in a stump, the result of the Being of Life attack, demolishing down the buildings. He wasn't like that yesterday. He appeared too enraged, beside himself. The New Kids screamed in pure fear, fleeing from the mad Digimon.

In his confusion, Michael tripped over something and tumbled onto the ground. Betamon stopped in his tracks and returned to his digi-child's side, his dark red eyes clouded with fright and severity. Michael gawked at the oncoming Cyberdramon, too frozen with horror.

"Michael, move!" Frankie ordered at the top of his lungs, already running toward him. The New Kids fell into a stunned silence as Frankie began to glow. Somehow, the air seemed, all of a sudden, to become frosty, icy-cold breezes biting in their bare skin. Even the breaths came out in white mists. A blinding white aura hugged around his body, as bright as the winter sun shining upon fresh snow. Around him, it _felt_ so cold that there was no heat at all, and the kids shivered with a new kind of coldness, the coldness that _felt_ warm.

The oldest boy bellowed out, "Heart of Ice!" His aura became intense, and somehow, perfectly formed icicles emerged from the aura, as if the aura made the icicles of the coldness, and, like fired by a rifle, launched from the aura, aiming for Cyberdramon's legs. The icicles seemed to grow, forming a mass of bluish-white ice. The thick ice clearly held the legs in place, Cyberdramon being unable to budge his legs a bit.

"What's that?!" Miyako shrieked in shock, her dun eyes wide at the recent scene of impossibility. 

"His power," Sora flatly replied. Her face had a taut expression of light displeasure. 

"Cleo, Sora!" Frankie shouted as he assisted Michael to stand up. "Get everyone out of here!" 

Sora stiffened, but obeyed the command. She held on Miyako's arm, surprising her, and the New Kids pursued after her. Seeing that everybody was responding to him, Frankie turned his attention to Michael. The younger boy was hanging on his arm, his face slightly pained, his right leg hanging from the ground. It seemed that Michael might have twisted his ankle.

Cyberdramon, in a deep rage, swiped an Erase Claw at a recently built building, causing it to collapse without any resistance. He then gave out a mad holler.

"Now I'm really mad!" The growl, also angry and bitter, came from Elecmon as he dashed toward Cyberdramon, his anger boiling for his babies' pain. A golden glow surrounded him.

_Elecmon, digivolve into . . .  Mamemon!_

"Bomb Fist!" Mamemon furiously cast his fist right in Cyberdramon's face. But unfortunately, the metal mask protected his head. Cyberdramon jerked his head to a side, and Mamemon was thrown into a building, forming a hole in the wall. Meanwhile, Dewimon entered the battle, casting an Ice Tempest at the black dragon. Cyberdramon, unmoving from the waist down, bent down to grab on chucks of rocks that were thrown around from the last battle, and with a roar, heaved the rocks toward the kids who were herding the Digibabies.

At Miyako's yell of alarm, Sora sharply looked up at the incoming rocks. Smoothly, Sora gestured a light swipe of her hand in the air. The air became alive, breezes becoming visible, colored red, as red as blood. The breezes danced around the chestnut-haired girl in a whirlwind of red, and she suddenly gestured sharply. The kids felt the air pushed against them, and then they were gone. An instant later, they heard quiet roars, and looked around. To their bewilderment, a dome of red wind was formed around the eight kids and Digimon, including some of the Digibabies. The dome seemed compact in strength and structure as rocks harmlessly bounced off the red wind dome. Sora looked calm, her hand still up in the air as if was actually holding the dome.

"What happened?" Willis finally spoke, his cobalt eyes on the battling Cyberdramon, Mamemon, Dewimon, Rianmon, and now Seadramon. "What is he attacking us?"

"Look at his eyes," Cleo whispered, stepping close to the boundary of the wind dome, her eyes narrowed. "He's mad."

"More like insane," Daisuke spoke.

"But _why_ is he attacking us?" Miyako repeated Willis's question, glancing at the older girls. They said nothing, Sora remaining standing with a hand up in the air, and Cleo watching her Digimon sending another Ice Tempest. The blond girl then groaned in alarm as the Butterfly Digimon received a sharp swipe from Cyberdramon and collapsed onto the ground. Miyako inhaled in a breath. "We have to help!"

"No!" Sora firmly shook her head at the lavender-haired girl. Her face was unusually impassive. "You stay."

"Frankie, Michael, get away!" Cleo suddenly yelled. All gazed over to where Frankie held the hurt Michael up by an arm around his waist. They were striding blubberingly because of Michael hopping on one foot, and their lethargic speed was perilous on them, trying to do their best to escape from the nearby battle. Cyberdramon easily clouted Rianmon in her flanks that made her stiffen in pain, and then her large body glowed in a golden light. She dedigivolved back into a dazed Iyumon. Just before Cyberdramon sent another Erase Claw at her, Seadramon quickly took the small lizard in his mouth and dodged out of the way.

Mamemon was seized on Cyberdramon's mask, using one hand to take a sturdy hold on one of the horns. He repeatedly cast several Bomb Fists against the thick leather skin, the abnormal fire burning through. Cyberdramon gave a frenzied roar and wildly jolted his head. Yet, Mamemon had the hold.

Cyberdramon, with a solid jerk of his head, sent Mamemon out of his hold and heaved him right on the ground beside the two boys. The boys crouched, tense and terrified. Mamemon groaned, but didn't move, lying there limply. The russet-haired boy made an upset yell. The ice block around Cyberdramon's legs had ruptured midst of the battle, and he freed his legs, turning toward the boys.

Michael looked up at another roar, and yelled out the other boy's name. His face resolute, Frankie glared upward as Cyberdramon targeted his stump where he had lost his claw. 

_"MAMEMON!"_

Mamemon popped wide his eyes.

_His crest glowed white . . . His Digivice shrieked . . . The image of the Crest of Soul - a downward-soaring comet with a crescent-moon as its head - glowed with tiny stars . . . _

_Mamemon, digivolve into . . . _

_Mamemon stood upon a lake of pure bluish-white ice, circling in place. A white aura began to cover him, surrounded him as a figure of white. His body swelled, gaining mass in size, standing taller than his previous form. The white aura vanished, and a large, bulky Mamemon-like Digimon stood before you. And the transformation began. White rays shone from his left hand as the entire hand modified into a large metal cannon, from the elbow to the tips of the fingers, and a thick black gauntlet slid on his right hand. His dark blue pants lost its color, replaced by wicked black, with scraps of silver metal patched all over. A glowing red sensor replaced his left eye, radiating deadly powerful laser toward you. His other eye was still golden, but full with fierceness and loyalty.  He whirled in place, waving his cannon-arm, until he posed, legs separated, cannon-arm shooting upward in triumph, as the background of blue creased with explosions._

_. . . Metalmamemon!_

A black-gloved hand, as large as Cyberdramon's claw, shot out and grasped the coming stump in midair. Cyberdramon growled in raged surprise as he gaze met with the blazing red eye of Metalmamemon. He stood tall and colossal, easily towering over Cyberdramon. His other eye, which was a laser beam, focused on the dragon, and he effortlessly tossed him out of the way. Cyberdramon stumbled down, his tail thrashing around. Almost forebodingly, Metalmamemon took aim his cannon-hand, only inches away from Cyberdramon's face. The dragon was totally frozen, clearly scared stiff at the facing danger.

"Metal Bomb Fist!" A faint light glowed inside the barrel of the cannon, and with a brief blast that almost deafened the ears in range, a menacing sphere of inferno fired out the cannon. The inferno had so much force that it exploded right on Cyberdramon's face and chest, and the force thrust him skidding backward. There was a dismayed silence, the kids shaken at the sight. The smoke settled around an unmoving Cyberdramon. His mask was totally smashed by the force, but not destroyed. The inferno had burned off the thick leather skin, leaving raw scalds around the chest and shoulders. Metalmamemon, now cautious, stepped forward, his cannon up. Then he stopped, his face contorted in disbelief. Cyberdramon was just stirring! The black Digimon labored to move a muscle, but he did move!

"He needs more help!" Willis's voice rose from the settling smoke.

Miyako was standing beside Sora, both watching the disturbed scene. "Please, Sora!" Her dun eyes were misted, gazing at her with an insistent expression.

"No!" Sora refused, but her face was full of clear worry for the two boys in the distance. "It's time for you to see how we handle things around here."

When she heard what the Seeker mentioned, Cleo turned her jade eyes upon Dewimon. The Butterfly Digimon was lying on the ground, aware of everything, but too weak to move any muscle. She had her head raised, her orange eyes watching the scene with helplessness. Helplessness. Cleo had felt the same way before. She felt that way so many times, that she wanted to fight against it. She refused to give up, fighting the feelings of vulnerability. She wanted to help, give her own support for the Digidestined that she had vowed to help. Her eyes narrowed in stalwartness, and they met the orange eyes of Dewimon. They felt the same way.

Hidden under Cleo's shirt, The Crest of Heart glowed with a pale lilac light, the radiance dancing around the lines of the half-heart . . . 

***

Daematermon snapped her head back at the light within her heart, seeming so painful that she gasped. 

_The crest!_

***

_Dewimon, Digivolve into . . ._

_A soft beam of bright lilac emitted out from the Crest of Heart and smoothly encircled around Dewimon. You could see a vague shadow of the butterfly Digimon standing silently from within the beam. The shadow began to shift slightly as if she was changing in size and appearance. Then a slender bare foot stepped out from the beam, and the Digimon appeared, the beam dissolving from her body._

_A humanoid stood in place, her smooth skin pale lavender from head to feet. Scraps of dark grey metal-patched sections of her legs, torso, and arms, connected with shimmering metal veins that crisscrossed nearby upon the skin, covering parts of her body like protective garments. Veins of metal that seemed like a bare skeleton crept upward from the tops of her left fingers toward the shoulder as her right was pure flesh._

_A mask of dark silver metal screened the whole right side of her face, covering the right side of her head, freeing the right eye. The left side of her head was bare of hair, smooth but comely. A metal bolt was set on the center of the left cheek, held on by five thin wires that looked much like spider webs, hooking tightly on the skin. Metal, coiled antennae curled from her head. Deep orange eyes glare at you with dominant power. Two sets of huge butterfly wings on her back were made of orange metal, charging with tiny lighting bolts._

_She posed herself, commanding and steadfast, gazing at you with overwhelming strength._

_ . . . Ruigumon!_

"Ruigumon, help Metalmamemon!" the Watcher commanded, her hand now clenching around the precious crest in triumph.

The new-digivolved Ultimate leaped up into the air, a blur of steel-grey and orange. She came to Metalmamemon's side, floating in the air. Her pale orange eyes turned to meet his red and laser-lighted eyes, and for a brief moment, they sneered.

"Ready?" Ruigumon spoke, her voice smooth unlike the accents of her former stages.

"Ready." Metalmamemon rumbled and then raised his cannon-hand toward the moving Cyberdramon, who treaded heavily toward them, the body exhausted but now refreshed with new madness. "Metal Bomb Fist!" The inferno detonated from the cannon and wickedly licked around the protected skin, slowly scorching until the skin was tender.

Ruigumon spread wide her metal wings and they then lightly charged with tiny silver lightning bolts. "Heart Bullet!" The holes that were built in the metal wings opened up and pellets shaped as razor-sharp hearts, as tiny as thumbnails, fired out. The Heart Bullets came into contact with Cyberdramon's body, making him snapping back his head and hollering in great agony. As quick as the Heart Bullets struck him, Cyberdramon dissolved into pixel dust, gliding into thin air.

But he wasn't quite gone. In his place, there was something that was odd in appearance. A tiny ball of some kind, all black and smooth, rested in place. It seemed like the ball was _absorbing_ sunlight, not reflecting it. The Digimon and kids came to take a cautious gaze upon the ball. No one dared to touch it or even step within several feet of it, forming an awkward circle around it. 

"What is this thing?" Sora murmured, clearly tense, as well as the others.

"I've seen this before," Iyumon spoke tiredly, from upon Seadramon's neck. "It's a virus that controls Digimon into insanity, not unlike the Black Rings."

"So, that means Cyberdramon _was_ being controlled?" Daisuke wondered, glancing to the others, who had no other answer for his question.

The attention was attracted to the ball once again as it gave out a weird groan as if was in agony, and then evaporated into pixels. An instant later, Metalmamemon glowed with the golden glow, and his body reduced in size. Elecmon's In-Training form, Pagumon, frowned as his black eyes gazed around his different body. 

"Aw, back to the In-Training Stage," he mumbled, then shrugged as much as his small body could. "I gotta get used to it."

Frankie gently picked him up in his arms. He was grinning proudly. "I'm really proud of you, saving us."

Pagumon's grey-furred cheeks blushed lightly. "Well, that's the least I can do."

Cleo took a gaze at her new-digivolved Digimon. Ruigumon appeared surprised, thoroughly taking in details of her body, orange eyes glancing at her arms, legs, wings, and body. She looked much different, more human in appearance, except for the Chrondigizoid metal scraps and large wings that were made of orange-tinted metal. Her metal antennae perked up, and she turned toward the coming fourteen-years-old girl. 

Cleo was silent: she entwined her hands, and finally spoke softly, "Ruigumon, I'm sorry I forced you to digivolve."

Ruigumon only smiled. "It is okay, Cleo." She then took another gaze at her hands. "I think I will like this body."

Michael was sitting down on a fallen boulder, supporting his right ankle on another rock. Sora was kneeling beside, gently checking on his ankle. He had heard what Cleo and Ruigumon spoke about, and he was curious. "What does she mean, forcing her?"

Sora replied bluntly, "Very few Champions can digivolve to Ultimate without a certain device, such like a crest, but Cleo doesn't have a Digivice to control the stages." Pausing, she glanced to the butterfly. "She will have to stay Ultimate."

The New Kids were silent as they watched the tension between Frankie, Sora, and Cleo. Frankie and Sora cast careful looks at each other, clearly guarded, while Cleo avoided all gazes upon her.

_What's up with them?_

***

_That crest . . . _

_I never forgot the familiar light. How could I? I can remember the beautiful light, so much like a newborn flower bud. It shone all of a sudden, poking a tiny hole of my magnificent darkness. My darkness was too dark to let any light shine through, but it is now flawed. Before, my darkness was perfect, without emotion and disorder, just pure. I found it comforting, knowing that nothing will hurt me. No one will ever dominate me. I was free . . ._

_Until now._

_Somewhere in the back of my mind, there is the crest light, so humbly glowing, but nevertheless there. It may be beautiful, but it is also deadly. When the light first shone, it was like a tainted dagger pierced right through my heart, that if I ever have one. I can feel my life-blood seeping out, but I know I am not dying or hurt at all. I cannot be hurt! I am immortal! _

_Nevertheless . . . this light reminds me somehow of life. Reminding me of how precious life is, and how it should never be corrupted. Then how it could be possible, I recalled. Everybody knows that life cannot be perfect. When there is life, there will be death. We need balance, and we cannot live without balance.  You cannot have life without death, and you cannot have light without darkness. I should know because I am the darkness._

_Then who would be the light? That crest? That crest is too weak to be a ray of the light, but it did flaw my darkness. And there is something else about it . . . _

_Why is that when the light hurt me, I feel happy? I forgot what feels like to be happy. I forgot how to be happy a long time ago. Melancholy is my happiness. Grief is my joy. Death is my life. Why did I feel jovial that the crest is alive? Is that because she is alive after all the time? How ridiculous! She is dead. I know because I killed her. I killed her because I cannot stand the heartbreaking eyes of her. I gave her no mercy, but she did touch me just before she died that she forgave me. My humble, little Lucy . . . _

_ . . .? _

_Tears . . .? _

_I. . .  cry? _

_. . . _

_I must find who bears the crest. I want to know why this person awakened the crest to life, and of what purpose. Moreover, when I find him, I will destroy him just like I destroyed my girl._

***

Demidevimon remained perched upon the head of the throne. His 'mother' was seated on that chair, perfectly unmoving as she mused deeply. He remembered what had happened a few hours ago. Daematermon seemed to flinch in pain, giving out a small, childlike gasp. The living darkness, which was always embracing around her body, recoiled agonizingly and dejectedly from her. It happened only in a brief second, but she was truly disturbed, her small body apprehensive in disbelief. After that, she sat down on the plain, wooden throne and ruminated.

He was greatly inquisitive about why that when Daematermon was the essence of the darkness, she still flinched at a bit of pain. However, he knew better than pester her with meaningless questions, so he remained silent, his large golden eyes on his mother.

Then she finally roused and turned her hidden face toward the door of her empty chamber. Demidevimon also watched over there, but saw nothing but a doorframe that seemed to surround the darkness from outside. A short time later, he could hear scuffling from the outside of the entryway, as if something was slithering on the ground. Instantly, he knew what his mother was doing. She was calling her other servant.

That servant was made of her doing, straight from chosen data and Human DNA she had stolen from a previous Digidestined. In few words, she was not a real Digimon. Still, Daematermon, being a tender mother, referred to her as a daughter, and even Demidevimon recently called her as his younger 'sister'.

A figure entered the chamber, slowly, as in respect of the Daemon Mother, and soon, Demidevimon could see her appearance as she slithered into the few rays of daylight. He noticed that she wasn't in her Digimon form, instead in her human form. A young girl stood before the Daemon Mother. She looked about nine years old, he believed. She looked simple in appearance, wearing a dark purple jumper over a black shirt. She was barefoot, and her wavy hair was the color of the indigo night sky, pulled back into a thick ponytail. She has her eyes closed as she bowed to Daematermon.

"Yes, my Mother?" she hissed softly with sly shyness, two pointed fangs exposed from behind her girlish smile.

Daematermon twitched a faint smile at her, but her voice was icy-cold. "I demand you to search for the Crest. I sensed it, and I want to know who the fool that woke it is. Keep yourself hidden, do not let anybody see you. Once you found the crest, report me at once. Don't fail me, Verzyemon."

As Demidevimon watched, Verzyemon seemed to transform before his eyes. It took her only a few seconds, and before Daematermon, stood a woman-snake. Half snake from the waist down, half woman from waist up, she was. A lengthy thick tail thrashed, leaving thick dust trails behind, as she slinked closer. Small durable scales, as wide as a human child's hand, of shiny violet and black protected the vulnerable skin beneath. Above her waist, a young woman smirked upward at her 'brother'. Smaller scales, built for lethal beauty, adorned her long arms, torso, and neck, allowing her delicate face free with velvety skin. Her hands looked normal, but her fingers ended up into talons of toxin. Thick wavy hair curled about her small shoulders, and when she smiled, two pointed fangs exposed from behind her full lips, twinkling white. Her eyes opened and they were snakelike, golden irises with black slits.

"I shall do what you ask, Mother."

***

I am back in my dream, but I know it's not mine.

At least, I thought so.

It is not the same. I'm not walking from the darkness into the dying garden that I usually repeated before. Instead, I stand in the middle of the garden, as if I'm here the whole time, having no sense how I got here. I could feel a cool breeze in the air, and I know that my past dream didn't have any wind. It was too still, artificial, and this dream . . . it is natural. It's the same, yes, with the dying plants around me, the darkness behind me, the light in front, but the air . . . it _feels_ different.

The breeze gently brushing my short ivory hair away from my face, I take time observing the area. It's much the same to my recent dream. The garden is the same garden with the withering plants as if out of thirst for nonexistent water and sunlight. I have no understanding of this 'representation'. Ever since, I symbolized the garden as a world on its last legs or a waning heart, something like that. All I know is that the garden somehow characterizes death or dying.

There are many tiny paths made of ancient stones jumbling through the plants, and now I decide to walk upon one of them. It leads me through a hallway of tall, lifeless shrubbery, the top almost reaching to my chin. I could see the swirling, magnificent light behind the barred door at the far edge of the garden. My heart again aches of longing to go there, but that dire door prevents me. That door . . . it still scares and puzzles me. Why is it there? Why is it locked?

Sighing faintly, my eyes gaze upward to the silver-grey sky that is a blend of the eternal light and the living darkness. It's neutral and relaxed, and it gives me neither happiness nor sadness. It's always that way, and I have no idea why. Something attracts my astonished attention. Numerous, tiny butterflies of many colors silently flutter over me, so high that I almost miss the teeny creatures among the grayness. _Butterflies, here?_ I wonder with amazement. It's the first time I'd ever seen any other creatures than me.

I snap my head to my right. I hear a sneeze. It's a very light, childlike sneeze, but the very sound in the silence startles me. My eyes narrow at the chain of browned bushes behind me. "Who is there?" I speak with hardness in my voice. "Show yourself."

I hear nothing, but silence from the bushes, and then another sound comes out, again surprising me. The sound is a frightened sniffle. Someone is here, hiding in the bushes, and by that sound, I think it's young. It sounds so sacred that my voice softened as I kneel by, "You can come out. I'm not going to hurt you."

I watch carefully in the bushes, searching for any façade of that person, and I could make out two small human eyes peeking out. The eyes are striking blue, like electric blue. The young eyes amaze me - they are familiar. Someone I saw in my memories . . . I make a brief shake of my head from the sudden dizziness I often experienced, and coo to the blue eyes, holding out a hand. "It's okay."

A moment later, a human hand comes out, and so small. It seems to shake with fright, but it firmly holds on my hand, as if the child with the bright eyes is lonely and hungry for a touch. As I watch, the face of a young girl comes out from the bushes. Thick bangs of light blond hair cloud over her electric blue eyes, the cheeks rosy and full.

I make a gasp - she looks exactly like me! She looked exactly the same when I was her age of eight! I withdraw my hand in disbelief, my jade eyes wide at the exact resemblance of the girl child before me.

"Who are you?" I speak cautiously.

The small girl crawls out on hands and knees, her eyes steadfast but terrified. Her clothing is unusual in appearance. Over a simple white shirt, she wears a kind of a denim jumper, all black, reaching down to her knees, along with a dark blue blazer with three stripes of black, gold, and red around the hem. One thing that strikes against her dark clothing is a long, silky sash tied around her waist. It's made of the rainbow, every color in order, illustrious and peculiar, the ends knotted and swaying at her right side.

The girl cocks her head at me, seeming to know something about me. In a very small voice, she whispers, "I think . . . I'm you."

I narrow my eyes, studying the details of her, and finally, I remember. I remember seeing her standing beside me in my other dream, waiting for the 'key' I was supposed to give her. She was very quiet, looking at me with pity and hope.

This time, the same young girl before me is truly a child, frightened and alone.

"I know you," I say. "You are the girl from my dream. Nikhai."

Nikhai. That strange, yet familiar name. I do not know why the name reminds me of something. It's like the half of my memories are gone, unable to remember anything of this mysterious girl and name.

The girl is slowly nodding at me. "It's my name, but I think I have another one."

I glance to the bushes and ask, "Why were you hiding in there?"

She looks troubled. "I hid from the monster."

"What monster?"

"My monster." Nikhai crawls backward toward the safety of the bushes, her bright eyes darting around.

I quickly hold on her cool hand and she stops at that, watching me. "Nikhai, there is no monster here, or at least, I think so." I glance around the dying garden. "It's my dream, after all."

Nikhai seems to frown. "No, it's my dream. You are in it."

"You said the same thing before," I murmur. In my other dream, Nikhai often mentioned that she thought she dreamt this place, and I thought _I_ dreamt this.  None of us understood why or how did it come to be. "Whose dream is this, Nikhai?"

"I don't know," she responds with innocence. She comes to kneel before me, and her tiny hands touch my face. The coolness soothes me, sending calming tickles down my back. Perhaps she is surprised to see a person with the same face as hers. A small, coy smile appears on her face. "You are pretty."

I blink and smile back warmly. "Why, thank you."

"You are pretty like my monster."

At that, a cold, bitter hand suddenly clenches on my heart, and I could feel my blood draining from my face. I want to believe that Nikhai is only a child. She would say things like that, not knowing the dire foreboding from them, but I force myself to remember about the reasons of her meeting me. She looks exactly like me. She wants the key from me. She's trapped here like me, both longing for the light and fearing the darkness. The simple words of beauty she uttered recently scares me.

Nikhai now grins widely, full of cheerfulness. "I will call you Butterfly because you came here with them."

What is with those foreboding words? I catch myself glancing upward, thinking that I would see the butterflies in the sky, but to my surprise and apprehension, they are gone. I'm alone in a dying garden with a girl that could be my twin. I can't help it but feeling that I'm doomed.

Taking a deep breath, I gaze back to the girl, having a few questions of mine. "Nikhai, who is your monster?" 

I don't know," she answers, suddenly timid.

"Do you know what your monster looks like?"

Nikhai shakes her head, her hand holding one of the ends of the rainbow sash to her mouth. She's wide-eyed with forlorn dread.

I frown at her action. "Then how can you know which monster you hide from?"

Nikhai finally says, but with eerie words, "I will know when she comes."

_She?_ I frown at that, but I don't have a chance to ponder this over when Nikhai grabs on my hand, forgetting about my questions. "Butterfly, can I show you something?"

"Sure," I only nod.

Nikhai pulls me to my feet, and she seems excited as I follow her down one of the paths. I notice that the path is leading into the darkness. I remember of the dire feeling during my walk in the darkness, and I hesitate, too scared to walk inside. But the girl pauses just several feet before the darkness. She points downward, and I crouch, taking a look.

A large symbol of a triangle is engraved on a flat stone a couple of feet wide, the triangle dashed through by a lightning bolt. My fingers touch the impression.

"Is it pretty?" Nikhai is saying. "I made it."

"Yeah, it's pretty," I agree. "Why did you make it?"

She kneels by me. "I just remembered. My brother liked the picture."

"Your brother?"

"Yeah! He will like it." Suddenly, she nudges my arm. "Come on, let's see the other pictures I made for my friends!" She lets go, and she dashes down the path back in the garden.

"Nikhai, wait!" I make an impatient grunt and I pursue after her. She runs toward the light, near the barred door, and she turns back, calling out my name. As soon as I arrive, she then points downward, grinning. I notice that there are three more symbols, as strange as the lightning triangle, engraved on a risen stone.

One is shaped as an hourglass, only that it's gracefully curved around corners and sides, as if it's dancing. The second is three small triangles, touched together with one of the points on each. Lastly, the third symbol is two large circle with a long, curved line linked in between.

"I made them," Nikhai says with mixed sadness and excitement in her eyes, "so my friends will remember."

"Why do they need to remember?"

"About my monster," she responds. "I'm so scared of her, and I want my friends with me so I will feel safe."

I can't handle the mystery here. There are so much more to this simple dream and to the look-alike girl standing before me. I must find the answers and I have the questions to ask. Firmly, I hold on her small shoulders and sternly gaze in her eyes. "Who are your friends? Where are they?"

She mildly answers, "They are in there." She points a finger behind me. I look and she's pointing at the swirling light behind the barred door. She continues, "I want them to come out, but they can't. I need the key to open that door, so that they will protect me from the monster."

"The key . . ." I frown and turn back to her. "Nikhai, what's the key? Please, tell me."

"I don't know, Butterfly," Nikhai replied with a bit of unease. "You're supposed to give me the key."

"I don't know what the key is!" I yell, my anxiety and angst erupting from within. "I don't know where to find it! You're the only one who knows! You have to tell me!"

She's truly scared of my sudden change, but she doesn't run away from me. Instead, she looks up and makes a terrified whimper. An abrupt sensation of dread shivers through my body, and my heart bumping, I whirl around. That 8-shaped symbol on the top of the door is glowing, somehow. That light scares me the radiance grows intense.

Suddenly, Nikhai escapes from my hold. I call out her name as she disappears around the bushes, but there is silence from her. Again, I look back, and gasp as the intense light blinds me into darkness . . .

***

Cleo sat upright from her bed, gasping breath. She gazed around quickly and saw that she was back in her bedroom. Her vision was blurred from sleep, and she rubbed her eyes. Her head was full of light dizziness, and she stayed still, waiting until the dizziness faded out. She sighed deeply, and one of her jade eyes tiredly opened, remembering about the new strange dream.

_Nikhai . . . Who are you?_

***

_(A/N: Juicy clues in there! *runs from angry fans because once again she refuses to let go the suspense* Heh!)_

***

Cleo made a smile as she accepted the steaming cup from Yamato. "Arigato, Yama-san."

Yamato smiled back and walked over to the kitchen. His hands toyed with the dishes and the warm kettle, but his mind was on the blonde sitting on his couch. He sneaked a guarded gaze toward the smaller blonde drunk the warm tea. He could notice a difference in her even since the battle with Cyberdramon. Something about her appeared out of place, but he didn't think she did know about it. He could see a spirit hovering near her.

Another ghost?

He was able to see deceased spirits since his Power was Spirit. He had noticed that there were spirits drifting behind a few Digidestined. Ken was the most conspicuous, having his older brother's spirit wafting around him. It seemed that, out of his guilty conscience, Ken refused to forget about his brother that the spiritual link between them held Sam to him. Yamato often wished to tell Ken that his brother already forgave him, but he couldn't dare to beak his oath of keeping his power a secret. Then, some time later, Ken finally settled peace with himself, and Sam, seeing that his business was finished, disappeared out of sight.

Iori did have a spirit around him, but Yamato decided not to tell him, for that spirit told him to keep the secret confidential. Iori just had to find out on his own about his troubles. Then it was the misty spirit floating behind Prophetmon that really perplexed him. He couldn't tell the details of the spirit, but he began to think that he could recognize the spirit as someone that had died four years ago, but he didn't want to make a mistake by telling Prophetmon. He wasn't even sure if the Digimon did know about the spirit . . .

Then there was Cleo. When he opened the door to greet Cleo into his home, something about Cleo overwhelmed him. There was a murky aura around her, unseen, but very clear to him. There was a small spirit walking beside her, always at her left side, often casting nervous glances over her shoulders. He assumed that it was a young girl, about seven or eight years old, but all dark and cloudy that he had problems reading the details. There was a fearful air around the spirit and she appeared deeply worried about something maybe a danger that she foresaw. Yamato also felt troubled, not because of the spirit's anxiety, but for Cleo. Cleo might be in danger that she wasn't aware of, but Yamato didn't know what kind of danger was waiting for her. Plus, when did the spirit first appear, anyway? Why now?

Yamato almost jolted from his thoughts when the vibrant words appeared in his mind. _'You don't need to worry about me. I'm fine.'_

Yamato gazed over to Cleo, who was looking right at him with a small smile. "I didn't say anything . . ." Yamato said, but trailed off, realizing. "Oh, your power . . ." He still didn't believe that there was still a power that was connected to Mind, and he grew curious of it. "Cleo, tell me one thing . . ." He then took his cup, turned a chair to face Cleo in the front and sat there, watching her. "Is it weird that you can read my mind? Any mind?"

Cleo was quiet, and then answered, "I try my best to stay out of your minds, but sometimes, thoughts can be strong enough to show themselves without your control over them." She smiled. "Your thoughts are like neon lights."

Yamato watched her carefully. He wanted to find out about the spirit that sat by her, her head bowed, her eyes darting around from under lashes. He needed to know. "Cleo . . . What do you think of what I'm thinking now?"

He then knew that she read his mind, for she looked slightly tense, lowering her gaze from his steel-grey gaze. Yamato continued, "Do you know?"

"About the girl?"

"Who is she?"

She softly exhaled and looked upward. "I don't know who she is. I had dreams about her ever since . . . ever since I can remember. She is like a phantom that won't go away."

Yamato wondered if she knew that the 'phantom' was dead. "Do you know that she's a ghost, a deceased spirit?"

"You can see her?" At the male's nod, she tightened her hold on her cup, staring at the liquid. ". . . Her name is Nikhai and she knows about Digimon."

Yamato can see that she wanted to tell him more, but she seemed uncertain if she should. He felt that he needed to know who the spirit was. Although, the fact that the spirit knew about Digimon was a bit strange. "How could she know?"

Cleo shrugged. "Maybe she was a Digidestined."

Yamato formed a frown of disbelief. "A girl who died that young? I find it uncanny." _How it could be,_ he thought. _A seven-years-old girl who was dead and she knew about Digimon?_

Cleo rubbed her cheeks, looking confused. "Well, I did ask her, but she won't answer. She seems so frightened . . ."

He noticed the concerned tone in her voice. He can imagine; the ghost girl was looking very scared of something, huddled next to Cleo, shaking. Cleo remained quiet, watching Yamato curiously, as he observed the unseen girl. Yamato can speak with spirits, but only if they were willing. Yamato was willing to help, and he relayed that to the girl, using a streak of his Spirit Power to 'touch' her. Then he was surprised when the girl seemed to cower at his power, trying to hide behind Cleo. The girl stared back with terrified eyes, and he realized that she was not ready to talk. She was too sacred. Still, Yamato had to find out what has happened to her and why she was bonded to Cleo. He could do another way to talk with her, but only if Cleo was willing, as well.

He looked to the blonde, asking gently, "Maybe you can tell me more about your dreams and the girl."

She didn't answer anything, unconsciously reading his mind. What he had in his mind astonished her and she shook her head, uncertain. "No, Matt . . . I don't want you to enter my dreams." 

He sighed. He can enter dreams to find answers. There was the only other way to speak to the deceased. "Do you want to find out who she is? Why she is in your dreams?"

Cleo was still shaking her head. "But she is so afraid! She's hiding, fearing that her monster will get her."

"Her monster?"

"It could be a Digimon or a real Monster. The problem is that she is a very scared child, lost her brother and friends to her monster, and she fears that her monster will find her. She trusts me not to tell anybody about her so the monster won't know where she is. The only reason you know about her is because you see her."

"She chooses to be seen so she does want me to see her." Alhough, he wanted to know why she wanted him to see her.

"What can you do to help her?" Cleo sounded helpless.

"I can talk to her."

"Then talk!"

Yamato shook his head. "She has no voice to talk. The only way I can talk to her is in your dreams."

Cleo wrapped her arms around herself, troubled. "You can hypnotize me and enter my dreams . . . ?"

Yamato felt his heart clenching at her scared voice. Somehow, she looked very much like the ghost girl. They looked too alike, acted too alike. That caused a cold pierce at his neck, his neck hairs standing. He rubbed at his neck, trying to answer her question. " . . . That's one of the ways, but yeah."

". . . It's too dangerous . . ."

"Why? How dangerous can it be?"

Cleo's jade eyes met his steel-grey eyes. "Because . . . if her monster is that bad, the monster would kill me just because Nikhai is inside me."

Yamato was wordless, hearing her words. Again, the cold pierce came, and he lowered his gaze. She might be right. Whoever that monster was, it could be dangerous and hostile, and if it was searching for the little girl, it might know about Cleo and would try to destroy her, as well. He suddenly felt a strong protection, the wanting to take Cleo to safety so no one would hurt her. He didn't know why he felt that way, being not that close, but perhaps it was because she looked frightened. He would be scared if there was a monster out there wanting to kill him just because he was in the way.

Yamato slowly nodded. "Perhaps it's better for both of us to wait."

"Yes, please," Cleo said with the pleading.

"But I could help her . . ."

Cleo tightened her lips, lightly frowning. "Well, for now, I wish to help her alone."

Yamato blinked. "Alone? But if -"

Cleo held up a hand to silence him. "Wait, Matt. There is something I want to do by myself. You see, I feel that I could not do anything to help you. I feel like that I'm helpless, a weight on your shoulders."

"Cleo, you are not," Yamato said sincerely. "You are a great help to us."

Cleo averted her head. "I know it, but still, that's how I feel. I do want to help, and not just being there as a spokesperson between you and Prophetmon. I want to do something that will be of a great help to you." She looked back to him, serious. "I believe that there is something about this girl in my dreams that is connected to this, whatever the Final Battle is. She trusts only me and no one else, and I want to help her on my own. It will prove to you that I can do something."

Yamato heard the confident tone in her voice, but she made it sounded like that he didn't appreciate her doings. " . . . We didn't mean to make it seem that you didn't do anything."

"It's not just you," she answered. "I just feel that I want to do this on my own. I believe I can solve this without any help."

Yamato nodded. "I will trust you on that, but . . .  I want to help you, too. If that girl won't talk or I keep seeing her around, then I would want to find out, too."

Cleo appeared withdrawn, studying him, and then nodded. "Ok, Matt. If I can't solve this problem on my own, I will ask you." Her eyebrows crossed. "But only you. Please don't tell anybody about this. You are the only one that I can ask for help."

"Ok. There must be a reason why she is here in yours dreams . . ."

"And if I can't ask her, you can ask her, but at another time. When we both are ready."

Yamato gave her a rare smile. "Good idea. I know you can do it."

Cleo smiled back in gratitude.

Still . . . Yamato can't stop thinking about the girl. Just one question he needed to ask. That would make this mystery clear. "But one question . . . When did you first get your dreams?"

He watched as she tried to remember, but then he heard knocking on the front door. He stood, preparing to get the door, but he stayed there, watching Cleo. She quietly answered, "Ever since I got my crest."

_Interesting . . ._ He took a brief glance down to her crest, and then headed for the door. He grinned as Taichi entered, taking off his shoes.

_"Ohayou, minna-san,"_ Taichi addressed.

Yamato remembered why Cleo and Taichi were here for. Cleo had called them privately and she had information from Prophetmon that she felt that it was important for the 'leaders' to know. Obviously, Taichi was the leader, already chosen by his friends, and Yamato was chosen by Taichi to be the second-in-command. Even so, Yamato was aware that the Circles, which were called by the Old Kids, representing the Friends of the Stones' circles, had chosen leaders already. Taichi was in the outer circle, which involved Sora, Mimi, and Joe, for their powers, and it made Taichi the leader. Yamato was the leader of the inner circle, Kim, Izzy, and Frankie. He noticed that it didn't matter who were the leaders and who weren't. The Old Kids were aware of their roles and they knew what they can do and can't do. Yamato would not choose to be the leader of the inner circle, but he was honored when Taichi gave him the role that he decided to keep it.

Cleo was serious about her information and Yamato and Taichi agreed to meet her at Yamato's residence. It was the day after the last Destined Digimon, Elecmon and Dewimon, digivolved into their Ultimate Stages, as well, and Yamato felt that the Final Battle was coming. He hoped that the information would be helpful.

As Yamato closed the door, Taichi glanced over to Cleo. She was quiet, staring down in her cup. She looked so small, so fragile, and yet she held strength within. Yamato sat down on his chair as Taichi sat by Cleo. He remarked that Taichi showed one of his rare empathy to Cleo.

"Cleo, are you alright?" Taichi asked, his tan eyes soft.

Cleo seemed to snap from her thoughts and didn't notice the big-haired boy beside her. "Yeah, why?"

Taichi titled his head. "You seem lost in thought."

She just shrugged. "Just thinking."

Taichi again smiled, and then looked over to Yamato. The blonde was just sitting, waiting for him to start. Taichi continued to Cleo, "I understand that you have something to say."

Yamato made a snicker. "Tai, I never heard you that formal."

"Must you criticize me about this?" Taichi protested, although a wily smile played on his lips.

"Fun that way."

"I don't see you being formal, either."

"I have my way." Yamato grinned good-naturedly.

Suddenly, a word burst in their minds, flaring intensely. _'Boys!' _Cleo mental-spoke.

"Whoa!" Taichi jumped, blinking at the brightness, even it was only in his mind.

Yamato rubbed his head, could feel the _solidity_ of the word inside. He smiled sheepishly, "Maybe we should listen to Cleo for now."

Cleo grinned, back to her good nature. She waited until the boys recovered from the sudden mental voice and said, "Ok, this is short, so it won't take long. It's important for you to know about this, but before I tell you about it, I only got this information from Prophetmon. He's my source of the Digiworld, keeping me updated about what is happening out there. Whatever I say about this, I heard it from him. Okay?"

Yamato's answer was a nod. He understood what she meant. Some of the Old Kids were already suspicious of her and Prophetmon, since they just happened to show and offer their help. Cleo was already a good friend to them, but they never knew that she was a Digidestined until she was discovered, so they still suspected that she might keep a few secrets from them. Prophetmon carried a resemblance of Wizardmon, one of the most valuable and respectful Digimon the Digidestined held in their hearts, and some of the kids frowned at that, for it seemed to them that the strange Digimon was a mockery.

Yamato wasn't against Cleo. He just understood why she was secretive.

Although, Taichi wasn't that understanding. "Someday, I want to ask you more about Prophetmon," he said solemnly, but he then smiled. "But go ahead."

Cleo cast him an appreciative gaze. "You know about the D-3s that the New Kids have? Well, Prophetmon told me that we do have D-3s so they can help our Digimon digivolve into their Mega Forms."

Yamato arched his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you serious? We do have D-3s?"

"But we already have our Digivices," Taichi said.

"Prophetmon said that your Digivices are outdated, so they need to be updated."

"How?" Taichi demanded. "And must I remind you that we lost all our crest powers? Our Digimon cannot digivolve to Mega."

Cleo smiled, shaking her head. "But you are wrong, Tai. Think about it. Have your Digimon digivolved to Mega using your crests?"

"As a matter of fact, no," Yamato said, comprehending.

"And your Digimon can digivolve to Mega without any crest power, so they can jump over the Champion and Ultimate stages to Mega. They didn't digivolve directly from Ultimate to Mega, but from Rookie to Mega."

"It's true," Taichi nodded. "So all of us can have our Digimon digivolve into Mega?"

"Yes."

Taichi grinned, the first one here. "It's nice to hear that. Our Digimon would be thrilled knowing that they can digivolve after all. So we don't need any Digicore?" That, he asked Cleo.

"No, not anymore."

Yamato took out his Digivice. He was surprised at how old it was, dull grey with blue buttons. It was ancient, the 'first Digivices' ever made. Of course, the Digivices were needed to be updated. The Digiworld was updated and rebooted many times, and so the Digivices needed to catch up to the modern adjustments. It was important, too. The Digidestined needed more power if they were needed to defeat the Final Evil, and the Mega Digimon would be more than enough. He gazed to Cleo, saying, "So where can we update our Digivices?"

Cleo replied, "We have to go to an island north of File Island. It's called Destiny Island, and no, I don't know why it is called that way. Prophetmon took me there one time. It is beautiful, a lot of trees, very peaceful. He showed me a cave underneath the island. It's enormous, but empty. He said the only way to update your Digivices is that you have to be there together."

"So we need to get them as soon as possible?" Taichi questioned.

Cleo nodded to his question and she then grinned in delight. Her delight was clear. "Also, the New Kids need to be there, too. They will get their Crests there."

Taichi noticed her delight and also smiled. "I suspect so. I always thought they will get their Crests, since Ken already got his, and they know their virtues through the tests."

Yamato agreed. "Yeah, and it's good because we need all the help we need to face the Final Evil."

"You are right," Cleo said. "In fact, the new crest will help the New Kids to become into Armor Children."

"Armor Children?" Taichi repeated, perplexed. "What?"

Cleo looked slightly surprised of something. "Don't you realize? Did you know that we are called as the Nature Children because we control nature?"

"Yeah, we know . . ." Yamato trailed off, realizing. Something popped in his mind, at the edge of his consciousness, vague yet nagging. "You mean . . .?"

The knocking came again. The memory vanished, and Yamato blinked at the abruptness. He stared at the door for a moment, then apprehended. " . . . " He could feel the tan and jade eyes on him as he went to answer the door. When he saw who was at the door, he then smiled.

_"Ohayou, nii-chan,"_ his little brother said. He was hugging Patamon in his arms, his azure eyes full of concern. He wasn't looking like the confident, eager Takeru, and Yamato knew why.

"So you decide to come here?" The Guardian said as he let the Savior in. 

Takeru let Patamon fly out his arms and turned to Yamato. His face was quiet and bothered. Yamato knew why he looked that way. Takeru talked to him about what happened days ago and he wanted to let Taichi know about it. Yamato agreed and promised that he did support the idea. Takeru nodded at Yamato's question. "I have to. It's critical." He glanced over to Taichi and Cleo sitting on the couch, looking curious. His azure eyes appeared clouded and he walked over to Taichi, Yamato following. 

"Tai, I'm sorry to interrupt this, but . . ." Takeru looked over to Yamato for support. His big brother smiled and nodded. Feeling a bit more confident, Takeru said, "I have something to say."

The Master looked every inch as the leader of the Digidestined. "Yes, what is it?"

Takeru folded his hands and bowed his head, the ancient humble role for a youngster toward the elder. In a quiet voice, "I still think we should tell the New Kids about our powers."

Yamato knew Taichi very well. Even that the leader was stable outward, he could see the stubbornness flashing in his tan eyes. He said, "Tai, let him explain."

Taichi glanced to him for a moment, and then watched Takeru as the boy went into explanations.

"Taichi-san, I have thought over this, and we should tell them. I feel that . . . no, I know that they will find out. They will find out that we have these powers and I have faith and trust in them that they will accept the facts. Somehow, I have a feeling that we are keeping secrets from each other, and I don't know why. Even I have a secret that I can't tell you until I feel ready."

Even Yamato was surprised at that, for he had no idea about Takeru's secret. Nevertheless, his suggestion was important. Takeru gazed directly at Taichi, more certain. "I'm sorry that I used my power against my word, but it was necessary. I wanted to save Cody. If I can't use my power, Cody would be dead right now." Takeru made a very small half-smile. "Now that my power is known, I feel better because I don't want to keep any secret from my friends. I trust them and they trust me. It's not fair for them not to know our secrets just because they are not part of this. They _are_ part of this. Sooner or later, we will have to tell them about our secrets. I want to tell them about our secrets."

Yamato watched Taichi's reactions carefully, and his reactions were half what he expected. The leader's eyes locked on the azure gaze, and then he looked away, appearing deep in thought, his boyish face simple. He then made a nod and gazed back, saying, "From what I know right now, the New Kids already know about your, Frankie's and Sora's powers. There is no way to cover them up, and it's too late. I'm aware of the risks involved if we tell them about our powers . . ."

Takeru looked a bit defeated, but Taichi's voice softened, as he continued, "But I'm aware of the risks involved if we don't tell them . . . I was thinking over this, last night. We have to let them understand that we are not 'freaks', but just happen to have them. I want to tell them that I'm one of them. I want to tell them that they don't fear us."

"They are not afraid of us," Takeru said otherwise. "They are awed of it and they want to learn more."

Taichi appeared astonished, a smile on his lips. "They do, don't they . . .? You are right, TK. It's not fair for them not to know."

"Really?" Takeru grinned, hope brightening in his face. "You will let us tell them? Thank you. I feel relieved. I don't know how you feel if I want them to know . . . but you accepted it."

"Don't thank me. Thank your brother. He knocked some sense in me."

Yamato half-smiled at himself as he recalled his snap at him about reproaching his brother for using his power. Takeru was chuckling. "As he always did," he said.

Yamato also grinned. "And I'm glad you agreed to my brother's suggestion, Tai. It's fair."

As the boys nodded, Cleo, who was quiet, spoke in. "Now I ask you, are you planning to show them your powers now or . . . ?"

Taichi glanced to her. "You have a point. Should we have some kind of presentation so we can show them?"

"Maybe we can have a picnic together someday and show them our powers and tell stories," Takeru suggested, beaming. "They would love it."

"Michael and Willis should be there because they already saw the powers," Cleo said.

"Is that a coincidence?" Taichi was curious. "I mean, why did, all of a sudden, two American Digidestined join us? Not any of the others?"

Yamato shrugged. "Maybe it's meant to be."

"But why them?" Taichi voiced. "Not any other Digidestined?"

The Watcher grinned. "You would ask the same question even if another Digidestined joins us."

"Point," he grinned back.

Takeru picked Patamon from where the Digimon was perched on the nearby table. Holding him tenderly, he said with sincerity, "I would not ask for any better team than the New Kids. I think we can do it. We can help you fight the Final Evil."

Taichi shook his head, chuckling. "You don't have to make it obvious. I know you can do it. I have faith in you."

"As do we all," Cleo agreed.

Somehow, Yamato felt the icy pierce stabbing underneath his skin and he shivered. He didn't know why, and he didn't know why he thought up the words. But those words held a dire foreboding and Yamato was suddenly worried. He glanced to the frightened girl, who was watching back, appearing that she knew his words and knew the doom. 

_'We have to have faith. Who knows what will happen if the faith is gone?'_

To be continued.


	5. Revealing the Past

****

Disclaimer: Chicobo, Joseph, and I do not own Digimon: Digital Monsters. Sorry.

Dai: Now that *sounds* remorseful. Why are you sorry for?

Debbie: For disappointing my fans. 

Dai: Who says you have fans?

Debbie: . . . I don't like you.

Dai: Neither do I.

Demy: -_- *sighs* 

Children of the Digital:

Part Five: Revealing the Past

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

The room was quiet, just like the other rooms of the residence of the Takaishi's.

Takaishi Takeru slept soundly in his bed, along with his Patamon nestled on the blanket, his wings folded over his body. Nothing should disturb their peaceful dreams. Nothing should disturb the peacefulness of the residence. Nothing outlandish should be here.

But she chose to be here.

Soft light rays began to radiate from the computer screen at the far side of the room. It was like the computer was turned on its own, the screen now shining greyish-green. The lights were just dim enough not to wake the sleepers. Slowly, a small figure stepped out from the computer. It was not detailed, all made of dark silvery light. The silvery figure formed itself into a human female, a small girl child. The figure gained her colors and looks, and lastly, Verzyemon stood in the center of the room.

Her golden eyes gazed over to the sleepers and her lips grinned. She would be eager to attack them when they were vulnerable, but she was at orders at the moment. Verzyemon silently tilted her head, feeling for the strip of darkness that she was feeling ever since she entered the room. The strip was like a thread inside her, a thread thin and weak. Mentally, she touched it. Only the ones of the evil and the ones who were touched by the dark can feel it. The thread could choose to hurt her for touching it, but it didn't do anything, simply guiding the girl-Digimon. It wanted to be found.

The origin of the thread was in a closet_. So, that's where he keeps them.'_ She glanced to the boy with interest. _Clever boy, hiding them in the least obvious place, but he doesn't understand how the darkness works.'_

She tiptoed over to the closet and opened the slide door. She wasn't expecting that the strip of darkness was coming from on the top of the shelf. And the shelf was too far for her to reach. She frowned at that. She could choose to transform into her Digimon form, but she knew that it was too risky. Looking around, she spied a chair. She took it in front of the closet and carefully stood on it. She reached for the top shelf, using the thread to guide her to them. Her fingers were like spiders, following the invisible thread to a small box resting at the wall. She withdrew the box from the shelf and opened the lid.

Laying in two rows, nine dolls enduringly grinned at the snake-girl. Each of them was shaped and painted to represent the Digidestined when they were at a younger age. She knew what they were. They were the gifts from Daematermon given to Puppetmon so he used them to control the Digidestined's minds. Puppetmon didn't know their true powers, and he used them only physically. 

Verzyemon covered the box, looking to the boy. _It's kinda funny that the Savior keeps them after all the years. Why didn't he go ahead and destroy them? Humans are strange creatures.'_

She carefully moved back the chair and walked toward the computer, keeping her eyes on the sleepers. She saw Patamon's wing-ears twitching at an unheard sound, and she hurried, not wanting to be captured. Not yet. In her haste, she didn't pay attention to her whereabouts, and she bumped into the desk. The lamp rocked off the surface, but she quickly caught it with a hand. Heart beating, she glanced to the sleepers. The boy was stirring into awareness! She putted the lamp back and touched the computer screen. A glow of greyish green light, then she was gone.

Takeru opened an eye to the glowing screen. Drowsily, he reached to shut it down and nestled deeper in his blankets. Just before he slid back in slumber, he realized that he never turn it on.

***

"I got them, brother."

Demidevimon turned to her footsteps. Verzyemon skipped into the chamber, holding the box tightly. She opened the lid and held up the box so Demidevimon can see.

Demidevimon grinned. "Good. Let's begin."

The chamber was the same chamber where Myotismon used the mystical cards to open the gate to the Real World in his castle. Daematermon was fond of him, and she used the appearances of that chamber to remember his 'victorious' march in the other world. There were no tall gates on one wall, though. The doors were small, normal, and there was a small pedestal in the center, much like the previous one in the vampire's castle.

The pedestal was designed differently. There were two circles, one smaller than the other, set in the center. Nine marks were engraved on it, four on the outer circle, four on the inner circle, and the last one in the center of all. The vampire and snake-girl didn't understand what the circles and spots mean, but Daematermon had mentioned that there were so many symbols and signs out there that weren't yet discovered. Those circles represented the balance of Nature in the digital data; she called the circles the model of 'The Friends of the Stones'.

She told them what to do with the dolls, and that was what they were about to do. As Verzyemon held the box for him, Demidevimon reached to pick up the doll that was the exact model of the young Master. Two brown eyes daringly looked back, a determined grin flashed, and Demidevimon thought he was looking at the real Master of Courage. Of course, he did know who the Master was, but for now, he didn't have any grudge against him or any of the Digidestined at the moment. In fact, he held high regard of his Power and courage.

__

'They are very powerful, I acknowledge it. It would be an interesting Final Battle,' he reminded himself.

He settled the Master doll in the center mark. The doll seemed to take a life on its own once it touched the central mark. The doll's clothing shimmered, changing shape and color, and soon, it was clad in a kind of orange open robe and light blue pants. The symbol of the Crest of Courage was sketched on the front of the robe. The doll looked older than it was, four years older, as much as Demidevimon tried to figure the age of humans, then the doll slowly walked over to the outer spot that marked the southern point. Standing there, it turned to stare toward the central spot, unmoving.

Verzyemon watched it with great interest and looked at him. Demidevimon smirked. "They still work even after four years."

He continued settling each doll on the central spot and watched as it changed age, shape, and clothing, then walked to stand on a mark that was its rightful position. He then realized what Daematermon mean by the circling balancing Nature. Those children controlled Nature with their Powers, and the dolls represented the children keeping balance in Nature and Digital data.

The last two dolls worked differently, he noticed. When he tried to put down the tiny Savior doll on the central spot, the doll instead hovered in midair. It smoothly transformed into a different person, a young boy of sixteen years old. The Keeper. He didn't meet him in his past, but guessed that the boy joined the Digidestined long after he was deleted. It was strange, indeed, that the Savior doll changed into the Keeper doll as he watched it walking to stand on the southeastern point, clad in a white long jacket and orange pants.

"What does this mean, brother?" Verzyemon questioned, puzzled. 

Demidevimon remained silent, and then picked up the Saint doll. As he expected, when he putted down the doll, it floated and changed appearances. It changed into a young female child, clad in a black dress, a dark blue jacket, and a rainbow-colored ribbon tied around its waist. He recognized it as the Watcher, a new Digidestined. He had seen her before, during one of his random travels. She was walking with a Digimon that was so familiar to him. He had heard the Digimon calling her the Watcher'. At first, he was so shocked that he thought he saw Wizardmon again, but he then realized that the Digimon had different clothing.

Demidevimon shook his head clear of memories and watched as the doll lowered itself on the central, and instead of standing like the others, it sat down and bowed its head as if was meditating or sleeping. He thought it looked heartbroken.

But his guess of the two different dolls was correct as he thought so. Turning to the curious Verzyemon, he said, "It's clear now. Remember, now the Savior and Saint are Armor Children, not Nature Children. The older kids don't need them anymore. The Keeper and Watcher had joined them, as you see here."

She was puzzled at that. "But it would make the Nature Children weak, incomplete without them. Life and Death are part of Nature."

"True, but this Watcher -" he pointed at the central doll - "is the center of the Nature Children. She is taking over the places of Life and Death, using Mind to connect to everything. If we remove her . . . The Digidestined will lose everything." He then wondered why he said that. That Watcher was just another Digidestined. She didn't mean anything to him. 

Verzyemon appeared to think the same as she frowned at the doll. "What makes her so special?"

"Appearances can be deceiving, Verzyemon. You remember that."

"Yes . . ." she turned to gaze at her brother. "But she is so . . . fragile, delicate. She is easy to be broken."

Demidevimon wondered her words. She was right. The doll was very frail, pathetic, but Demidevimon had seen the Watcher. She may be weak, but somehow, he felt a power from her. She wasn't as weak as Verzyemon thought so. Maybe that Watcher was something that Demidevimon should watch for. Maybe she had something that might be of interest to him. Perhaps.

*** 

Shoes crunched over fallen leaves, the silence softly filling with the humble sounds of nature. The silence was replaced by the sounds of whistling breezes, the grunts of animals, and in the distance, faint voices carried by the wind.

Three boys walked on a concealed path, one of the paths that led to Primary Village, the main nursery birthplace of all the Digimon, except of the Destined Digimon. One tall boy was in the lead, knowing the pathway very well, since his Digimon partner was one of the Caretakers. Two other boys were behind him, one slightly older than the other, each different in appearance, blood, and personality. They hadn't found a trusted friend in each other, for their lives were different.

Yet, they were together for this purpose, putted together by their Protectors'. For a moment, they felt companionship in their silent company.

However, curious of the unknown purpose stirring in one of the boys, and he leaned to a side, careful of his sore ankle, and spoke in a low voice, not to be heard by the Protector in the front.

"Psst, Ken," Michael whispered, his ice-blue eyes meeting the twilight blue eyes of Ken. "I wonder what kind of surprise they have for us."

Ken firmly held his Wormon in his arms, while the older Betamon preferred to walk rather than being carried, clumsily flopped beside his digi-child. Ken nodded, whispering back, "I was curious when Kim called me about the surprise. What do you suppose?"

Michael made a shrug. "Honestly, I don't know." He turned to gaze inquiringly toward his Protector, and his face reddened in captured guilt as Frankie cast a sharp gaze upon them.

"I can hear you back there," he said, winking. "You will see about the surprise, so be patient."

So the boys did, already learned how to keep patience. They entered the Village, the chatters of the Digibabies playing filling the air. Some hopped excitedly to the Destined Digimon, asking if they want to play. Betamon only smiled and nudged them in affection as Wormon shyly waved one of the antennae, much to the babies' delight.

A small Elecmon walked toward the boys. He was the future Caretaker, though he won't take the position unless the current Caretaker was too ill to help or was required on a long journey, which was the most likely case. The younger Elecmon, nicknamed Lil Elec' by the Digibabies, grinned at the boys.

"Hello, everybody," Lil Elec greeted, and then turned to his right. "I will show you where they are now."

The boys followed him around the plush buildings, most of them fallen after the last battle with Cyberdramon. Fortunately, many benevolent Digimon, who had heard of the unexpected battle, had come to help rebuilding the Village, knowing how valuable the Village was to their generations. Still, there were a couple of ruins left from the battled, blackened by the batting Digimon's attacks and an empty grove of laying trees near the boundary of the Village.

Frankie spoke up, "Have they found them yet?"

Lil Elec nodded in reply.

Ken was puzzled at that as well as Michael, and he asked, "What are you trying to find?"

"Our Digieggs."

"What?" Michael was astonished. "You mean Armor Digieggs?"

Frankie grinned. "That's what I said. Last year, we found two Armor Digieggs with our Crest symbols, but we never had a chance to find out which New Kids those Digieggs belong to. The other kids did try, but they weren't theirs. Here we are."

They paused at an area that was rarely visited. The small structures made of patterned stones and polished wood, unlike small buildings in secret. A moderate cottage stood in the center, colorful but humble, its door opened. The Caretaker, Elecmon, was sitting beside it, peeking inside. His long ears perked at their arrival, and he grinned at them.

"Hello, guys!" he greeted, standing. "The Digieggs are safe, and Kim is waiting for you two inside."

Ken and Michael took a curious look inside. The indoor was dimmed, empty, except for a small table in the center. The sunlight shone in from outside the opened door, and the boys' eyes were attracted to the gleaming egg-shaped objects sitting on the table. They immediately guessed that they were Armor Digieggs.

One was small, colored metallic silver, settled on two short rods of deep red, and tiny silvery wings sprouted from the sides. On the front of the silver Digiegg, the Crest of Empathy's symbol of a rainbow with a swirl at one end was emblazoned in darker silver. The other was slightly bigger, rounder. It was night blue, and on the top was a kind of tiny headdress lined with colorful feathers, spread across the top like a rainbow. Also, behind the headdress, there was a crescent-shaped arc, made of dark red metal, easily hidden by the larger headdress. The Crest of Soul's symbol of a downward-falling comet with a half-moon as its head was painted white on the front.

"Come in," a voice was saying. The boys almost didn't see Kimika, for she was standing near a wall, her dark skin allowing her to be hidden in the dimness. Or perhaps it was something else. She went to stand behind the table, faintly smiling. Her Digimon agilely leaped upon the table and seated herself, her curled tail wagging. The boys didn't move, scrutinizing the strange objects.

"Go ahead, boys," Frankie's voice rumbled in the cottage, unlike her soft voice, as he entered with Elecmon and stood beside Kimika. "Take what is yours."

"You mean . . . those are ours?" Ken questioned.

"That's what we thought so," Kimika replied.

"Then why did you wait so long?"

Frankie said, "We weren't sure if the Digieggs are yours. We didn't want you to keep your hopes high, but now we are certain that they are yours."

Ken glanced to Kimika, who nodded. He then eyed the Digiegg of Empathy. Somehow, it roused something inside him, a warm feeling of compassion inspiring his body. He abruptly adored the simple magnificence of the Digiegg, and he tenderly placed his long fingers upon the top of the silver egg. He could feel the warmth from it, and all of a sudden, his black D-3 glowed with a white, mellow radiance, illuminating the cottage and bathing everybody in its light.

Smoothly, Ken took the Digiegg off the table with gentle hands. A second later, the Digiegg transformed into a beam of silver light as it leaped from his hands into his D-terminal inside his pant pocket. He took it out, and he saw an image of the Digiegg of Empathy glowing on the black screen. He smiled faintly. "Now I have a Digiegg of my own."

"Congratulations," his Protector was beaming with pride.

Michael was indeed curious about the Digiegg of Soul. He could feel power from it, the power of living, the power of self. He never felt so bold and vigorous before, not even when he finally defeated Ogremon with the help of his new friends. Careful of the razor-sharp crescent blade behind the headdress, he putted a hand on the side of the Digiegg. At his touch, a thick white light burst from his old Digivice, so dazzling that it nearly blinded everyone, averting gazes.

"Michael, your Digivice!" he heard his Digimon uttering.

In the blinding light, he held on the Digivice. Almost as quick as it happened, the white light dimmed down into a muted glow, the rays shining between his fingers. He could feel strange heat from it, and he took it off, starring at it in amazement. The old Digivice, colored dull grey with green buttons, slowly transformed into a newer model that the New Kids now bore - a D-3. The edges of the D-3 were in deep purple like the twilight as the lines between the buttons and edges were pure white.

"He _is_ part of us," Frankie murmured in pleasure. "Michael, take the Digiegg."

Firmly holding his new D-3, Michael removed the Digiegg of Soul off the table. An instant later, the Digiegg changed into a ray of snow-white and leaped right in his right pants pocket, where he found another new device, D-terminal. He grinned at the image of the Digiegg on the machine.

"I wonder what will we Armor-Digivolve into," Worm said, curiosity coating his voice.

"When we need to battle, we will find out." Kimika then stepped in the doorway. "Right now, we need to go back for the presentation. They will be here any minute."

The younger boys exchanged puzzled gazes. They weren't here just for receiving their new Digieggs, but for a special presentation that the Old Kids felt that the New Kids needed to know.

"What is it about, anyway?" Michael demanded.

Frankie rolled his eyes. "Didn't I tell you to be patient? You will find out soon."

***

The Warder sat upon a log used as a bench, his raven-black eyes watching the spectacle before him. Sixteen children of various ages from bold sixteen to innocent ten conversed together, associating with the newer Digidestined. Seventeen young Digimon, devoted and spiritual-linked to their digichildren' as they fondly called them, refreshed the empathetic friendships.

He loved to see such scenes. He knew that he was once antisocial and remote. He was not like Yamato, who was aloof and chose to take care of himself and nobody else. He himself kept distant out of shame of his secrets. Often, he longed for someone who would understand his reasons for being unsociable, and thanks to his Digimon, he had learned to open up to his newfound friends. He was now hospitable and dedicated, already earning some of the most valuable comradeship he ever had.

But now, his mind wasn't on the precious friends he had, but on the diverse Digidestined. He was chosen to serve a purpose, and his heart began to beat nervously at that thought. Because the Old Kids finally agreed to let the New Kids know about the Powers, they already knew who would be the best to portray the tales. He was the Warder of memories and knowledge, so he was selected, much to his trepidation.

Koushiro had never told a story to a large audience before. He always had stage fright before his speeches!

"Whew . . ." he was astonished, didn't realize until now how many Digidestined and Digimon were present, including him and his Digimon, thirty-five in total.

"So, do you think you can handle an audience like this?" grinned Taichi, who leaned against the log beside Koushiro. The redhead gave him a gaze of hurt dignity.

"Come on, Tai," Tentomon defended, glancing to his digichild with admiration. "He can handle anything. He _is_ the Warder."

Koushiro waved a hand, reddening at the unexpected praise. "Don't worry. I'm sure I will handle this. I will give them the best tale they will ever hear."

"Good," Taichi nodded, and then stood. He then burst out with a sharp yell that totally astonished everybody. "HEY, QUIET DOWN!"

Koushiro couldn't help but laughing with amusement as two different scenes happened at the same time, seeming hilarious. Taichi had found it amusing to tell all of a sudden to startle his friends, and the older Digidestined had been used to his sudden shouts for long four years. They took to their seats in unison, along with their Digimon, and they were gazing at him with suffering annoyance. At the same time, the new puzzled Digidestined jumped in shocked bewilderment, and hasted to their seats, eyed Taichi with perplexity.

Looking smug, Taichi grinned as he sat down beside his humiliated Digimon, but not without a sharp slap to his head from his best friend.

"Must you do that every time?" Mimi growled from her seat with Jyou.

Taichi just grinned sheepishly. "I just couldn't help it."

"Sure, you can help it!" Yamato barked, his eyes flashing.

"Can we start, please?" Koushiro murmured, silencing the chatter between the old rivals. The Old Kids shouted in agreement as the New Kids laughed at the scene. The Digibabies that were sitting on some of the kids' laps made sounds mimicking the older boys' voices and words. Lil Elec shook his head at that as Elecmon simply grinned.

Smiling, Koushiro stood up and spoke, "_Konniechiwa, minna._ Thank you for coming. First of all, we the Old Kids want to apologize for keeping this secret from you." He noticed the curiosity appearing in the New Kids' faces, waiting for his explanation. "We know you can be trusted with it, but remember, we'd been through so much that it's still hard even for us to fully accept the destiny of having those powers." Now, there was the speechless astonishment from the New Kids. His voice grew hard. "I tell you, this is not a trick of magic. What you will see is absolutely real. Some of you had witnessed the speculation of our powers, and we know it may be too shocking for you to comprehend."

He now grinned. "I'm the Warder of Knowledge, who guards memories of the Digidestined. I'm chosen to tell you the stories, so please sit back and listen to the secrets."

The presentation was not like the other usual kinds. Each old Digidestined was to stand before the New Kids and tell a brief narrative of what happened that uncovered the innate powers they woke through the crests. Koushiro could tell all the stories, but he pointed out to the Old Kids before that a tale straight from their memories would be more understanding to the new children. Also, they planned to perform a momentary recital of their powers.

Koushiro first told of the time when they became aware of the true meanings of their Crests and sought to find them while Myotismon, the Undead King, sent his deadly henchmen to embezzle their Crests. He began about how the children got separated from each other, trying to find a way back together, and find their innate Powers that they never knew of.

Taichi, the Master of Courage, voiced of how he face the dark himself that he had feared, and he tapped in his Power of Fire, learning to know fear and face it. He showed a small, almost shy flame, unlike the fiery and intense soul of his, dancing on his index finger, and to the New Kids' awe, the flame left no burn on the skin.

Jyou, the Reconciler of Reliability, narrated of how he was chosen to keep balance within chaos, and he tapped in his Power of Water, wanting to prove his trustworthiness to everybody. He formed swirls of grey-colored mist, so thick and moist that the new Kids felt warm drops falling from the mist like rain upon their curious hands.

Kimika, the Seer of Empathy, repeated of how she learned to see behind the illusions of reality, and she tapped in her Power of Light, knowing the true sight of shadows. To their delight, she juggled tiny light orbs, each in a different color, moving around in a blurred circle.

Mimi, the Guide of Sincerity, performed of how she heard the truth of herself, and she tapped in her Power of Earth, keeping her friends together with a word of integrity. She delicately walked around the group, beautiful budding flowers appearing in her wake.

Koushiro, the Warder of Knowledge, revealed of how he wished to help his lost friends with power of Knowledge known and unknown, and he tapped in his Power of Lightning, vowing to offer aid when needed. Between his hands, silver and violet bolts of electricity leaped across, so tiny and yet so powerful.

Yamato, the Guardian of Friendship, portrayed of how he learned to listen to other voices and his heart, and he tapped in his Power of Spirit, knowing that friendship was too precious to lose. Instead of showing his power, he told of his abilities of hearing the deceased from the other side' and smelling souls.

Sora, the Seeker of Love, described of how she sought for love in herself and the others, and she tapped in her Power of Air, seeking love for everybody. She gestured with a swift motion, and soon, the air was filled with dancing breezes that tickled the New Kids' cheeks.

Hisoka, the Keeper of Soul, stated of how he unfolded his true self from his many lives to find home, and he tapped in his Power of Ice, known as the Last Digidestined. In his hand, he adeptly crafted a block of blue ice into a beautiful crystal rose, which he handed to Miyako in respect.

Cleo, the Watcher of Heart, recited of how she wished to help her friends from afar and near, and she tapped in her Power of Mind, carrying a secret of her own. She helped a delighted Betamon to fly' around the children's heads, and she sent a cheerful greeting in the astonished New Kids' minds.

"Now," Koushiro spoke with a solemn tone, "You need to listen carefully about TK and Kari. Their powers are complicated, dangerous, not to be used idly like outs. Only they have insight and self-control to handle them."

Takeru, the Savior of Hope, reported of how the Digidestined gave up their powers to aid him defeat Myotismon before he could harm them, and he tapped in his Power of Life, daring to hope in hopeless situations. He mentioned that he could take life if he chose to, and heal any injuries of physical and mental.

Hikari, the Saint of Light, uttered of how her brother gave up his life for her life, and she tapped in her Power of Death, the most powerful Digidestined of all. She voiced that she could give death, however, she would never do it, and she could harm people by a touch if she allowed it.

Koushiro observed the reactions of the New Kids. They appeared quiet, eyes clouded with uncertainty and fright. They glanced to the Old Kids with new respect and discomfort. Daisuke's bold face was pale, but a flicker of loyalty glowed behind his dark tawny eyes. Miyako seemed thoughtful with a bit of courtesy in her face. Iori's young eyes of emerald were full of reflective wisdom as if he discovered something new. Ken eyed the Old Kids with a new degree of awe, but also with appreciation. Michael's eyes were half-closed, seeming relaxed, but also inwardly struggled at the same time. Willis was clearly astonished, being the newest Digidestined and never expecting anything out of ordinary, but he appeared tolerant.

The redhead sighed and again spoke to ease their troubles, "So you see. That's what we had gone been through to receive the powers. We are still the same inside, only born with these strange but remarkable powers. We kept this from you and everybody else because we are afraid you might not accept us. We don't want to look weird to you."

The New Kids heard his words and glanced to each other, their minds seeming to work together, thinking the same words. Then Miyako was the first to stand up, her dun eyes soft and sharp. She spoke truthfully, "From what I heard from your stories, I think it's wonderful that you have powers like that." She smiled. "I know it's not magic or anything, but it seems so much like fantasy to me. Still, it's real, and I see no reasons why we can't accept you. You are still Digidestined and our close friends. I do accept you."

Daisuke stood beside her, grinning with confidence. "I agree with Yolei. I think that's special that you have those powers. And who knows? Maybe we are special, too, with our powers."

Iori stood up, sagely smiling. "No matter who you are, we are still friends. If we don't accept you, then we might as well be better off alone."

Ken's eyes shone with inner discipline. "You already accepted my past of mistake. I accept you with your wonderful powers."

Michael nodded in agreement. "We are already chosen to battle monsters and save the world. Why could this be any strange? I think being different is cool than being the same."

Willis was the last one to stand, but he was smiling, looking at each Old Kid. "I always want to be accepted in your group because we _are_ different. It is no surprise here that I will have a real adventure with you guys because you _are_ my friends. I accept you."

Koushiro wasn't surprised to feel wetness on his cheeks; he was just so reassured that the young kids accepted him and the others. The Old Kids were too content that they didn't say anything, eyes sparkling with true gratitude. Takeru and Hikari exchanged knowing grins together; they knew their trust in the New Kids were truthful. 

Taichi stood up, his face full of pleasure. "You never know how grateful we are for your acceptance. I know it will be difficult to understand what's going on here, but we will do our best to help you out."

"Although," Koushiro smiled at the New Kids, "I don't think they need much help because they already proved their faith."

The New Kids blushed and grinned at the praise.

The presentation ended, and the New Kids still had so many questions to ask their Protectors of their powers and tales. The Old Kids answered as much as they could, but some questions were too personal and painful to answer, and the New Kids, knowing the inner haunt of pain reflecting in their eyes, were wise enough to skip to the next question. The surroundings were loud with excited questions and simple answers, but it was also peaceful because it was one of the rare times that the Digidestined socialized in peace during the dark times.

However, someone was watching them. Someone with danger on her mind. She was well hidden, snaking behind the trees, her golden eyes narrowed at the chatting Digidestined, oblivious to everything around.

The Keeper sensed her.

Frankie abruptly turned his head to glare at a point in the surroundings trees around Primary Village. His dark hazel eyes just darkened into murky mud-brown, his face scowling bitterly. No one noticed his reaction, but someone sensed him.

Able to control the mind-emotions during the eager questions, Cleo was listening to Willis asking Koushiro about his Power when she almost gasped at the sudden flicker of menace in the back of her head. Sensing it as Frankie's mind-emotion, she glanced to him. She saw him standing alone, his sharp eyes on a point in the trees. She stepped close, searching for something that had tapped in his sense of danger. "Frankie?" she whispered.

"Shhh . . ." Frankie hissed from the corner of his mouth.

Cleo stared hard to wherever he glared at, and her face paled visibly at a thin, twisted blackness hiding behind a thick tree. She could see two slanted golden eyes glowing. Then she suddenly sensed a glint of electricity and data passing across her mind, so swift that she almost didn't catch it, but she already knew what it was. It was hard to describe how she can know what it was, but she experienced it several times to be able to recognize it. Then the blackness seemed to tremble as in awareness of something and vanished out of her sight.

"It's a Digimon," she murmured in light dread. But she couldn't tell what kind.

"She's dangerous," Frankie growled, his eyes not moving from the point. She felt the fading menace from his mind; the blackness was running away. Frowning in puzzlement, Frankie then glanced to the worried Cleo. Unpredictably, the air was moving with a sharp gust. The winds stung her skin like small bites of a mouth with icy-cold fangs. Cleo shivered in the coldness, rubbing her arms. She even glanced to her arms, wondering if the ice fangs actually _left_ any teeth marks on her skin. She sensed the deep anxiety of Sora in her mind and knew that the winds weren't natural. 

Cleo was worried. She felt that feeling of déjà vu again. She didn't know why or how, but a memory popped in her mind, the same one she sensed before, and she wasn't sure if it was one of hers or someone else.

__

She whirled her head, her sapphire eyes wide with horror . . .

Her brother shrieked out something, running toward her . . .

A girl also ran with him, her coal black eyes darkened with something . . .

Two boys stood together, one's face streaked with wet tears, and the other shouting with disbelief . . .

She stepped back . . .

She didn't want to hurt her anymore. She didn't want to hurt anybody. She didn't want to hurt . . .

She dropped the sword . . .

And at the same instant, an icy gust blew fiercely and a flash of purple blinded her . . .

And there was nothing.

Cleo again shivered.

***

While the Warder voiced legends of the Nature Digidestined to the new children, Verzyemon also listened.

New to her world, created recently by her mother' with data and Human DNA, Verzyemon had no knowledge of the Digidestined except what Daematermon told her about the past. Her brother' Demidevimon even told of his encounters with some of those children and she could feel pure hatred and admiration mingling in his voice, puzzling her.

What was so special about those human children? Human were nothing compared to the powerful Digimon with no capability to fight with elements or pure energy from within themselves. Human had fear of everything that they had no understanding of, and could either attack back with fear or escape with fear. Human were born of fear, she thought so as she heard stories from her mother.

And yet Daematermon and Demidevimon spoke of those human children called as Digidestined with reverence, although coated with extreme dislike.

Verzyemon didn't understand. She didn't understand how special those Digidestined were to the Digimon and the Digiworld. She didn't understand about Digivices and their values to the Destined Digimon for aiding them to digivolve without wasting extra energy. She didn't understand how the Digidestined had their unusual powers of the elements that dominated the Real World as Nature'. She didn't understand why those children saved the worlds with their lives and hopes.

She may be a Mega Virus Digimon; she never had a need to digivolve, but her mind was still of a Digibaby's mind. Everything was so new to her.

That's why she was eager to accept the assignment given from her mother to spy on the Digidestined. That way, she could learn more about the children she hadn't feared. She remembered that the children often were seen around Primary Village, mostly to help rebuilding and taking care of the Digibabies. She went there, her snaky form smoothly slinking through the foliage and terrain. She was smart enough not to move around in her human form, for a lone human was to be seen uncommonly and she cannot allow anybody, Digimon or human, to know about her existence. Remaining in her Digimon form was more unobtrusive.

She arrived in time, veiling in the dimness cast by towering trees, and her golden eyes were curious as she witnessed seventeen different children and eighteen Destined Digimon. They seemed so happy, so hopeful that she wondered why was that they were happy when there was danger coming for them. _Strange creatures_, she thought. She settled herself in silence, having no wanting of danger to harm them, simply interested in the stories.

She was able to identify each old Digidestined by their titles, knowing the faces and learning their strengths and weaknesses. Each child impressed her, but not quite. She hasn't seen them in action, like Daematermon and Demidevimon had. She didn't know how strong they were right now, only seen a bit of the powers the children displayed to the astonished new Digidestined.

Seventeen children. Demidevimon has met nine of them. Daematermon has known more than that. And she knew that there were far more Digidestined in the entire Real World, perhaps hundreds, even thousands! But just seventeen? And eleven of them possessed several of the more powerful elements of nature. One can easily destroy her with a blow of that power. Perhaps, could that mean . . . ? Those new Digidestined might have powers, as well? She learned much that her heart began to know fear of them.

Her ears perked at the words that she was spying for, three words that sent terror in the Daemon Mother whenever she head or thought of it. _Crest of Heart'_. Verzyemon's eyes swiftly narrowed, focused on a female child standing before the group. So small, so fragile, she was, with hair as white as milk and sad green eyes. She recognized her from the doll sitting in the center. That was the _thing_ that her mothered was frightened of? That small girl was supposed to carry the weapon to end the Final Battle? Impossible! She was so frail! She can easily break the child with a swipe of her tail!

Yet . . . She seemed to possess an inner strength that glowed from her weak eyes. Even weaklings can beat brutes with inner might and wisdom.

But she was delicate, like glass. Verzyemon sneaked closer to take a better gaze on the girl. She may be the bearer of the Crest of Heart, but she was weak, not knowing the true power of the crest. A sense of threatening curiosity appeared in her mind, warming her, motivating her. A simple plan appeared in her mind; she was still naive, but powerful in her attacks. If she chose to capture the girl from everybody and silently annihilated her, then her mother's plans would be undisturbed. She needn't worry about the Crest of Heart anymore.

Unfortunately, her mind was carrying danger, and one of the Digidestined, the Keeper with his mischievous face and laughter, sensed her. He turned straight to her, his sharp gaze piercing through her. She was hidden, and yet he knew where she was! She could feel iciness radiating from his body, chilling through her, feeling like she was turning into ice. Then the girl with the Crest of Heart, the Watcher, appeared at his side, but she didn't see her. Instead, she searched around, trying to find the source. Verzyemon could choose to stay still, waiting until the two children forgot about her, but that Keeper still watcher her, and she couldn't bear the frostiness. Moving stiffly, as if she was actually turning into ice, she finally escaped from the icy eyes and ran as fast as she could to hide in another grove of trees.

Panting in dread, she finally understood why the Digimon respected and feared them. They were strong, perhaps strong than the Daemon Mother herself. She finally understood that it wouldn't be easy to destroy the children. They won't give up, and perhaps never will.

She evaded to the Citadel, wanting to be safe from the iciness. When she entered the warm darkness inside, she gave out a trembling breath. She did remember she was supposed to report to her mother about what she saw and she tried to gather her bearings, tried to forget about the icy eyes. She coiled her tail abound her and rested her arms on the scales, resting her forehead on her arms, closing her eyes. It was unfortunate that she allowed danger to creep in her mind; she knew she was new to everything, but time was precious and the Final Battle was nigh. She needed to stead herself. Yet she couldn't forget.

"You almost disobeyed Mother's orders, sister."

Gasping, she gazed upward through violet hair strands and saw her brother perched upon a fallen column. The place where she stayed was the supposed lobby, but the magnificence of the huge columns supporting the housing upstairs and fancy designs and engravings of stones was ruined, blackened by the living darkness twisting in the corners and cracks of the walls and floors. It was not beautiful anymore.

Demidevimon watched her from near, had sneaked in silently. His golden eyes held amusement and pity.

Her face burned with shame, and she hissed, curling her lips to bare one of her fangs. "No one saw me."

"The Keeper sensed you," he mentioned, and she stopped herself from shivering to the memory.

"You dared to spy on me, brother?" she uncoiling, glaring.

Demidevimon made a small smile of conceit. "I was the top spy for Myotismon, remember?"

Verzyemon sneered back. "Sure, but you got deleted."

She was hoping to insult him back for shaming her of orders, but Demidevimon only hooded his eyes, seeming unruffled.

"Don't underestimate Demidevimon," she heard her mother speaking. Verzyemon turned to the darkness that shifted behind her, and bowed deeply, her cheeks reddening. Daematermon had admiration for Demidevimon, she could hear in the voice, and her cheeks again burned with jealousy. "He learned his mistakes, and I'm sure you learned yours, as well."

Verzyemon nodded. "Yes, Mother."

The humanlike hand, pale and willowy, came out from the darkness and stroked one of her cheeks. Verzyemon shivered at the warmth and iciness of the touch. Yet, she pushed against the bare skin, yearning for the feeling of the motherly tenderness. When the hand withdrew back in the darkness, Verzyemon exhaled a breath she held back.

"You found the crest, I believe."

Verzyemon allowed her eyes to meet the hidden eyes of Mother; she was hidden in the darkness this time, but the vague outline of her body was visible. "Yes. A Digidestined called herself as the Watcher claimed the crest."

"What does she look like?"

The words she described the Watcher were, "A small, fragile child with hair as white as milk and sad green eyes."

Somehow, she thought she saw a grimace appearing in the darkness, a bitter shifting, a fearful twisting of the blackness. Then she heard a doubtful voice from Daematermon, astonishing her. "Are you certain?"

Verzyemon nodded, her face contorted with puzzlement. The darkness seemed to avert away, the mother's back facing her. Confused, she glanced over to Demidevimon, who was unmoving from his perch, his eyes on the mother, clouded with worry and perplexity.

"Brother, what's so special about the Crest?" Verzyemon dared to whisper, glancing to the silent darkness. She didn't know what was so extraordinary about this ordinary crest; her mother didn't tell her the reasons.

Demidevimon's golden gaze met her gaze for a moment, then shook his head slowly. "I believe we will find out."

***

__

Hair as white as milk? 

Sad eyes?

What is the color of the eyes?

Blue?

If they are truly blue . . . She is finally here.

But she said they are green . . .

. . . 

Yet, she said they are sad . . .

Just like my Lucy.

How is this possible? How did she live? She was dead! I killed her with my bare hands! I saw the light fading from her beautiful, sad blue eyes . . . But I wasn't certain the light did_ fade entirely from her eyes. The Sword harmed me before I could find out. Perhaps she was still alive, struggling to find a way to reborn, like I did._

But . . .

She was dead!

. . .

Sad eyes . . .

The same eyes that chilled and warmed me . . .

How I long to see those eyes again, but it was too late. I embraced the darkness, and she refused to come with me. Instead, I killed her. That meant I will not see her eyes again.

. . .

What should I do? Go out and destroy Sad Eyes before she had a chance to defeat me?

. . . No.

It's not time. I would easily steal the crest, but I cannot. I only can take it when Sad Eyes gives it of her will. I must fool her into giving me the crest. Then she will die in peace, I promise.

That way, Lucy will die in peace, too.

. . .

The Black Lens . . .

Would it be time for him?

He is ready. He is eager.

. . .

I suppose I will let him have his fun with the children.

". . . Demidevimon."

***

__

(A/N: I always wanted to do this ever since I found out about Iori's deceased father. I wanted to give him sympathy, and I know just one boy to do it for me. This is for Iori fans! ^_~)

***

A small hand, clenched into a fist, hesitated before the large door, trembled for a moment. A row of white teeth bit on the lower lip, chewing, thinking. Then a soft breath exhaled out, and the fist knocked on the door, weakly, then harder, then it dropped to a side.

Hida Iori could wait patiently for the door to open and bow respectfully to an elder who answered it, but right now, his heart was clenched with uneasiness. He almost wished he didn't knock on the door, but he couldn't stop thinking about the powers. The Powers marveled him with those beautiful sights and seeming impossible abilities, but one power truly fascinated him. When he first heard of that power, so many questions appeared in his mind, and he wished to ask, but he hesitated, unsure if he should ask such a personal appeal. Still, the thoughts of the unusual power, those abilities, buzzed in his mind. He had to ask, and he will accept no' for an answer if he was rejected.

The problem was that he didn't know if he could handle the rejection.

Iori quickly held a breath as the door opened. The steel-blue eyes of Yamato met his emerald eyes, truly surprised to see him at his door, but then Yamato lightly smiled, the gladness easing his usually serious face.

"_Ohayou,_ Iori-kun! _Genki desu ka? (How are you?)_"

"I'm doing fine, _domo arigato_." He then asked, "May I come in?"

Yamato nodded, still smiling. He stepped aside to allow Iori to enter. He was curious how come Yamato didn't question about the whereabouts of Armadillomon. The truth was the Armadillomon knew about his appeal, and encouraged him to go meet Yamato. Iori had asked him to come along, but Armadillomon only shook his head and mentioned that sometimes he had to learn to go alone to overcome some fears. A valuable friend, he was.

Iori took off his shoes and set them beside Yamato's shoes as the blonde patiently waited in the living room. However, Iori didn't move anywhere, instead asked, "Um, there is a question I want to ask you. Something about your power."

Yamato appeared lightly surprised at that, but he noticed that his eyes were not on him, but to a point behind him, and his eyes softened for some reason. Iori curiously looked back, but no one was there. He was standing close to the door, and he was sure he could feel someone behind him if the door opened. But Yamato seemed to see someone else.

Yamato snapped out of his thoughts and nodded, pointing toward the couch. "Please sit there." Iori obediently sat there, his socked feet straight in front. Yamato took a seat on the chair, set in front of Iori. He questioned, "Why didn't you ask that before back in Primary Village? I would be more than happy to answer it."

Iori's face slightly burned. He knew he could ask that earlier, but he wished to talk with Yamato in privacy. His hands entwined together in his lap. "I know. It's a kind of personal question. Matt, is that true that you _can_ speak with dead spirits?"

Yamato closed his eyes, and Iori worried that his words might hurt him, but Yamato simply smiled and nodded. "Cody, I know this question is not what you wanted to ask. The question won't hurt me. You can ask."

Iori again waved, uncertain. He was frightened of what could happen, but like Armadillomon said, he had to walk alone to overcome fear. "You know about my father's death?"

"You want me to talk to your father's spirit?"

The boy blinked in doubtful surprise. He muttered softly, "If it won't be a problem."

The teenager made a small smile of understanding. "Cody . . ."

"I mean," Iori continued, trying his best to explain why. "I know he's alright, and Grandfather said I don't need to worry too much. But he doesn't understand. I was very young when he died, and I couldn't remember his touch, his voice. The only memories I have are in photographs and Mother's stories. I need to hear his voice one more time, touch him again." He fell in a trembling silence. Every time he thought of his father, he couldn't help but shedding a few tears. Often, he felt shamed to show his weakness - fear of aloneness.

He finished in a small voice, "I don't believe in speaking to the dead, but if you _can_ see and talk with them, maybe there is a chance."

He gazed upward, and Yamato was appearing softhearted, unlike the icy, stern face he usually had. He saw strong compassion in the steel-blue eyes. He seemed to glance to one side of Iori, seeming to communicate with someone, and then he turned to the young boy, speaking, "You might not know it, but he's here with you."

Blinking back tears, Iori glanced to his side, but seeing nothing. Yamato chuckled at his puzzlement, and continued, "When I first met you, I saw a tall man standing beside you. He was smiling with a bold expression, and he also wore a policeman's uniform."

"That's my dad!" Iori exclaimed. He knew his father died while wearing his uniform.

Yamato nodded, keeping his gaze a bit off from Iori's side. "I suspected so. He didn't say very much, but he did want to say something for you."

"What did he say?"

"He said . . . _I'm always watching over you.'_"

Iori finally grinned with light gladness. "That's the answer to my question! I always asked myself, _is he okay? Is he really gone, or is he staying with me?'_ I hoped he would stay so he could watch over me."

Yamato's face grew solemn, and Iori lost his gladness, worrying about that expression. Yamato spoke in a gentle, but firm voice. "Iori, you have to understand that he is alright. Do you know why he is here with you? Because you couldn't let him go."

" . . . Let him go?"

"Yes. Let me explain. Sometimes when a person dies, his relative or lover or friend has a hard time to accept the face that he is gone, he or she refuses to believe it. That link between the two people is not broken, and the deceased spirit is bonded to the mourning person, and it will be there forever until the fact of death is accepted."

Yamato shook his head quickly at the boy's guilty expression. "I'm not saying it's your fault to keep your father here. It shows that you and your father did share a strong bond, so strong that it's hard to break it. Now that your father died and you were so young the link remained strong because your father didn't want to leave you, and you didn't want to forget about him. Your father is glad he remained, but he feels that he is no longer needed. You already have your friends and family. He feels satisfied that you are old enough to let of the link."

Iori slowly shook his head. "I don't want to. I will feel alone if he leaves."

"Don't you have Armadillomon and your friends to be with? Are you feeling alone around them?"

"No . . ."

"Then why can't you let your father go?"

"I don't know. I just can't."

Yamato bit on his lower lip, seeming helpless, and then he cocked his head to one side, listening to something. Iori kept silent, now understanding that he was listening to the spirit or whatever. He wondered what was like to hear voices from the other sides. Did it bother him at first? It perhaps did, but now Yamato seemed composed with his power. He was used to it. Iori never believed in spirits or ghosts. He never thought that they might be real, but now that when he watched Yamato communicating, he believed that anything could happen, anything could be real if he believed hard enough.

Then why can't he believe that his father was all right? He didn't want his father to leave. He cherished him so much. He felt _safe_ around him. Sure, he had Armadillomon, but it was different. If he got lost and alone, without any of his friends or Armadillomon, he would still feel safe, because his father would be with him. How can he let him go? If he could, he would, but he didn't know how.

"Cody?"

He snapped from his thoughts and gazed toward a worried Yamato. "Oh, _gomen_, Yama-san. I was thinking."

"You don't want to feel alone, Iori-kun?"

Iori blinked._ He read his thoughts? . . . No, he can't, but how could he . . .? _"How did you know?"

Yamato smiled knowingly. "Remember, I was alone. I didn't know very many friends, and I often took care of myself, never anybody else except my brother. I was so cold and distant. Aloof was the favorite word my friends used to describe me. Then I met Gabumon, and I didn't feel alone anymore. Gabumon is like the other half of me, and no matter whenever I feel alone, I simply think of him, and he is here with me in my heart. He is always here. 

"If you feel alone anytime, just remember about your father, and he will be here in your heart. He won't leave you if you keep remembering."

Iori nodded silently. He had heard the similar words from his mother and grandfather, but this time, they were different. The words seemed strong and warm, as if his father was talking . . . through Yamato. He gasped quietly, gazing at him, but the blonde was only watching back.

He licked his lips and said, "If I let him go . . ."

"Even if you let him go, he will be here. Don't worry about him. He wants you to be happy. Let him go."

He was willing to let him go. He was ready, but he didn't know how. He remained in a troubled silence, his eyes lowered. He was now feeling guilty for not knowing how to let him do. Yamato might know how, but he didn't say anything to help him. He had to find it alone. He wasn't certain if he can do it alone. He hated being alone. He preferred to be with someone, even though he was silent in his friends' company. He hated behind alone. He can't do this alone.

Then, to his total surprise, strong arms came around him, gently tightening around him. _Yamato was hugging him? Yamato who dislikes to be seen hugging in public?_ Iori hesitated, afraid to look up his face, but he felt the warmth from his body, and he also putted his small arms around him. So content in the embrace, Iori buried his face on Yamato's black shirt, feeling more tears wetting the shirt. He didn't know why was he crying, but perhaps it was because he wasn't alone. Yamato was with him.

Then . . . something happened. He could _feel_ someone in the room embracing around the boys. He felt cool hands resting on his back, unlike Yamato's warm hands. Iori opened one eye, peeking above one of Yamato's arms, but he saw nobody else.

" . . . Matt?"

"Hmm?"

"Which one is hugging me, you or my dad?"

A soft, pleased chuckle came from his throat, and Yamato replied, "Both of us."

A happy smile appeared on his young face, and he tightened his embrace, trying to feel his father's touch. For a moment, he felt so safe in the two embraced given by one of his friends and his deceased father, then later, he felt the second embrace withdrawing, and he knew he was letting him go. But he didn't feel alone at all. He felt safe. And relieved.

__

"Sayonara, otosan." Good-bye, father.'

***

__

(A/N: *sniffles* Kawaii Iori-san!)

***

Cleo made a small smile of pride, standing near the shelf that supported the White Lighthouse, the breeze gently moving the light blue nightgown around her legs, as she watched the friendly talk between two of her successors'. Hikari was sitting near the lighthouse, her face creased with a curious smile as Willis conversed about his life in America, sparking an interest in the pink-clad girl. Willis may be distant and reserved due to his mistakes in his past, but he felt comforted around Hikari, finding her easy to talk with.

The three Digidestined were at the dark beach, mainly to train their psychic powers as Digiwalkers. Hikari and Willis proved their patience in perfecting their abilities for the last couple of days, and they were able to control them with ease, perhaps already aware of the psychic powers, but not yet knowing how to handle them. Willis's powers were the weakest of the three Digiwalkers, but his control over them was stronger than Hikari, and hadn't suffered headaches as often as Hikari had. Hikari was improving her control by the minute.

Cleo remembered when she found about another Digiwalker, about a year ago or so. She already knew that Hikari was a Digital Walker, but her psychic powers weren't developed enough to aid her to walk the Digital World, so she chose to leave her by until she was ready. Discovering Willis was an accident, she would say. It happened that she just heard about Willis Rose from America and how the New Kids aided him to battle one of his Digimon, which was invaded by a virus of his making. She never thought of visiting him or even thought of him.

On one of her common walks, Cleo was wandering with Prophetmon, listening to one of his stories - he was like a storyteller - when she sensed a presence. She was the only human who had visited the Digital World for three without any other human presence and even with the opened Digiports, she found it unusual to sense a different presence from the New Kids' presences.

She searched for the presence and found an eleven years old boy dozing among trees and bushes, unawares of his surroundings. It appeared that he might have dreamt of the Digiworld told by his new friends and arrived here without knowing it. That proved that he did have some psychic powers she felt within him and used it to walk the world, although he slept through it. Prophetmon called him the Judge and disappeared so the boy won't know about him. She woke him and, to his surprise, she called him a Digital Walker, much to her delight. The boy introduced himself as Willis Rose, and he was puzzled and worried about his Digimon. She knew that Digiwalkers can walk the Digiworld, but their Digimon cannot follow them, for a particular reason.

For a couple of hours, Cleo filled in of what happened to the New Kids when Willis asked of them. She promised to help him train his powers so they can visit together and learn more of the Digiworld. Though, she made him seriously promise that he won't tell anybody about his powers, and he agreed. He was doubtful to her words at first, but he found trust in her and agreed.

She enjoyed his company, although he grew troubled and guilt-ridden. He was not the same boy the New Kids had first met, and she felt sympathy for him. At least he was happy to have his Digimon back.

Willis and Hikari did show that they were successful in controlling their psychic powers, but Cleo kept worrying that the psychic powers weren't strong enough to block the lure of the Dark World. Hikari still suffered headaches, and it will be a matter of time before Willis, too, will hear the enticing waves. Cleo had once heard the waves, too, but Prophetmon had pulled her out before she got trapped and ordered her not to listen to the Dark Ocean. She was able to block the lure with ease because the addition of her Mind Power enhanced her control. Yet, she couldn't forget the beautiful, terrifying sounds of the ocean.

The Digiwalkers had to be careful, but Cleo had faith in them.

__

Cleo?'

Cleo turned to the thought in her mind, recognizing it as Willis's mind-voice. One of the abilities of a Digiwalker was telepathy, and only Digiwalkers can communicate between each other. She had suggested to use telepathy for two reasons - first, to improve the ability in case whenever danger strikes, a Digiwalker can call without any difficulty, and second, so that the darkness won't hear them and won't be able to lure them.

She resumed her walk toward the kids, taking care of her bare feet upon the rugged rocks. _What's it?'_

Willis wasn't wearing any pajamas as Cleo and Hikari did, his time in America different from their time. The breezes swayed his clothes, different from his usual uniform in the Digiworld, as he pointed a finger upward. _I was wondering why the clouds look so sad.'_

Like the mind-emotions of the Old Kids, she had learned to identify the traits that distinguished the children. Willis's mind-voice was quite different from his vocal voice. When he normally spoke in guarded, muted tones, his mind-voice was heavily coated with a bluish-green hue, almost very rich and judicious, as if he was judging people with a fair heart. She was surprised when she first heard his mind-voice like that, but she guessed that it was his true personality.

Cleo gazed upward. The clouds were always grey, depressing, neither angry nor lurking. They seemed to wait for something, sulking unhappily.

__

I think they are gloomy,' Hikari murmured from her seat. Her mind-voice was much the same to her normal voice, a mild, pink tint to it, very soft and aware.

__

I honestly don't know why,' replied the fourteen-years-old girl. _They've been like this ever since I first arrived here. I did ask Prophetmon about it, but he didn't know. It never rains here, either.'_

Willis narrowed his cobalt eyes toward the east. _The sun doesn't rise here?'_ When his Protector shook her head, he made a puzzled frown on his face. _How would it be possible when this place is part of the Digiworld?'_

You have to remember, Willis-kun, that anything could happen in the Digiworld,' reminded Hikari as she stood up, dusting her nightclothes.

Willis wasn't familiar with the strange rules that ruled the Digiworld, the rules that acted differently from the Real World, such as the sense of direction, time, and reality. He stepped closer to the White Lighthouse and placed a hand on the smooth, cool surface. He voiced out in awe, "It's too real . . ." He then stopped as in realization and turned to Cleo. "Oh, I didn't mean to talk out loud."

Cleo shook her head in reassurance, also speaking vocally. "It's alright." Like using your voice too much caused it to because weary and hoarse, using mind-speak often used up energy, and she understood that Willis did his best to speak telepathically, but just didn't have the energy for it. She continued, though, with seriousness, "But we need to stay quiet as the darkness won't hear us."

She wondered if it was too dangerous especially for Hikari and Willis to stay at the beach, for they were still vulnerable to the essence of darkness. But Prophetmon had insisted that, even though they were exposed to the darkness, Hikari and Willis can improve their powers swiftly against their struggle, becoming stronger rather than in complete safety and not improving as much. Cleo just hoped he was right.

Cleo's jade eyes slid across to the Black Lighthouse on the left shelf and studied the building. She was once again awed at how beautiful and cold the Black Lighthouse was, continuously shining dark light that should not be existent, with the lustrous walls that seemed to draw the white light shone from the white twin. Then her face slightly frowned as she though she saw something. She squinted, trying to see the faint figures drifting near the Black Lighthouse.

She could see the details clearly enough after a while staring hard. The faint figures were two small individuals, one a human child and the other looked like a Digimon. The child looked feminine, in summer clothing, stood near the door of the Black Lighthouse, the door that was locked with no lock for a key to open. She was trying to open it, while the strange Digimon floated nearby, waiting for something.

She then remembered.

__

I finger the marble door, so big that I feel like a mouse, and turn to my Digimon.

I can't open it, Wissy.'

Wissy makes a grimace on her ghostly face, but nods. She then adjusts her floppy hat so that it won't fall off and says softly, Maybe you don't have the right key.'

What is the key? Do you know where can I get it?'

I don't know.' Wissy glances upward, the black light reflecting in her golden eyes, making them looking like holes of darkness in her ashen, ghostlike body. Maybe your brother knows.'

I frown, shaking my head. He doesn't know. They don't know.'

Wissy drifts near to me and places a wispy finger on my nose, her crooked grin wide. I'm sure you will find it. I trust you.'

I giggle, also touching her face; she has no nose, or maybe it's hidden. I trust you, too.'

I then gaze across to where the pretty White Lighthouse stands on the other cliff - 

Cleo softly gazed as a warm hand touched her arm. An unfamiliar boy stood in front, waving a hand near her eyes. "Cleo?"

She slowly blinked, swaying at her feet, as if she was just wakened from a deep dream. The boy came in focus, and she recognized him as Willis. He was gazing at her with concern in his face. Hikari was also worried, her hand holding Cleo's arm.

"Cleo, you ok?" Willis was saying. "You were staring at that lighthouse for a while."

"Did I?" Cleo's voice was oddly garbled, and then shook her hazy head. Looking more conscious, she glanced at the Black Lighthouse. "I was . . . remembering."

"What did you remember?" Hikari asked, also looking at the lighthouse.

She tried to remember, but her mind was still foggy. The memories were too blurred to make clear. She fell silent, but replied through her mind, _Nothing that I can remember.'_

Her successors appeared unsatisfied with her answer, remained worried, but Cleo said nothing, keeping watch on the Black Lighthouse. Then a new presence materialized in their minds. Cleo, being more experienced, acknowledged it as a Digimon. She can't explain how she knew, but she just knew. The younger kids, not used to sense presences, were puzzled and searched the beach.

"It's Ruigumon," Willis spoke.

Ruigumon knew where the dark beach was, since she was led by her digi-child. Rarely did she visit, not trusting the abnormal surroundings, but she often went there just to see her digi-child. She wasn't flying as she could do, instead strode up the beach, her complexion of pale purple and dark orange clashing against the gloomy grey, brown, and black coloring of the beach. She then waved in greeting toward the kids when she saw them, her other arm carrying a bundle.

Together, the children treaded down the steep shelf to where Ruigumon stood at the base. The younger kids took a curious gaze on the bundle she caressed, and noticed that it looked familiar. It was the exact shape of an egg, only larger, big enough to hold with both hands. It was coated with a light golden color with darker yellow lines across vertically down the surface. On the front, the Crest of Heart's symbol of a half heart with a four-pointed star in the center was emblazoned in pale lavender. As well, on the back of the egg object, a pair of wide butterfly wings were fastened, unfolded as if ready to fly right out of the Butterfly Cyborg's arms.

"Is that an Armor Digiegg?" Willis questioned her.

Ruigumon's face was usually somber, but she flashed him a lenient grin as she nodded in reply. "I meant to give it to you, Willis."

Willis's cobalt eyes tore from the Armor Digiegg to the Digimon, clearly surprised as well as Hikari, who stood by him. "Why?"

"Why?" she repeated, and the grinned again. "Because they are yours." She tenderly grasped the Digiegg in one large hand, held it up. "This is the Digiegg of Heart for your Digimon."

The boy seemed to grasp the meaning, and his face broke into an excited grin as he again examined the Digiegg. Though, Hikari was puzzled, never knew that there were actually another Digiegg. She turned to Cleo, who was standing a bit back, watching it all, asking, "Cleo, I didn't know you have an Armor Digiegg."

Cleo nodded. "I do know, but in fact, I didn't know where I can find it. Ruigumon knew where, and I asked her to give it to Willis because I know it's meant for him. I guess it's time for him to receive it since rest of you already has them. After all, he is part of the team."

Hikari cocked her head in meditation and spoke with her mind-voice, _How many more secrets do you have left, Watcher?'_

Cleo was surprised at her question and said nothing, not knowing how to reply. Hikari seemed to accept her silence as an answer and gazed away, her face expressionless.

"Here." Ruigumon placed the Digiegg of Heart in Willis's waiting hands. The instant it touched his skin, the old Digivice that he kept at his waist began to radiate, neither as bright and fierce like Michael's light nor as soft and simple as Ken's light, but strong and merry, feeling true affection in the white light. The Digiegg of Heart became a bright ray of soft purplish white and leaped from his hands into his jacket pocket. 

Willis took out his Digivice and beamed with pride. His former Digivice was now a D-3, the shell around it bold orange colors, much like the noon sun, and just like the other D-3s, the lines between edges were white. He also received a new D-terminal. Hikari cheered him, surely happy that he was now one of her group, eight in total. Cleo simply smiled, knowing that the New Kids were complete.

However, she then knew that the whole Digidestined still weren't complete. The Old Kids needed to update their Digivices. The New Kids needed to get their crests. After the presentation, when the troubled winds settled down, Taichi had told the New Kids - even Michael and Willis - that they were planning to visit the Destiny Island to receive D-3s and new Crests for the New Kids. The New Kids agreed, wishing to help out, and the group set a day, hoping to get them as soon as possible in case some danger breaks out, and they would be ready for it.

Cleo turned to the kids, saying, "Now, we all need to rest and pack because tomorrow, we will go to the Destiny Island." When Hikari and Willis nodded, showing their worry in their faces, Cleo smiled, surprised at the worry. "No need to be so somber. It should be a happy even, for you finally get your Crests and we will be prepared. The danger can wait."

***

Despite what the Watcher said, danger never waited. No, it never waited for a sign to attack, never sneak around to leap upon an unaware person to make its move. It was already on its move.

Demidevimon dexterously agitated his wings as he navigated between thick, ancient trees, dodging around leaves that were not the same color of the Real World's leaves, often pale blue or dark pink or light red, or even white, flashing by the cast of the sunlight.

His mind was racing animatedly. He finally got his chance. His Mother had decided to allow him to use her precious Black Lens to digivolve into the Mega Stage using all the energies of her fallen sons. He will not be the same to a normal Mega Digimon. He will have so much power that he will be destructive to himself.

He knew his risks. He knew that once he was acknowledged to the worlds, the Digidestined would come and try to stop him just like they did to all the Villains that ruled the Digital World. He knew that if he ever got deleted or killed again, his Mother would not resurrect him again. She believed in second chances. This was his second and last chance. He must use it carefully.

He felt a bit tired from flying and went to rest upon a high branch. The two objects swayed from his neck, the weights wearing him. One was the Black Lens, the one feared item that can force a Digimon, even a Vaccine, to digivolve into a dark Digimon, using energy that he/she had stole from deleted data. The other object was the Crest of Silence, the only wild Crest that cannot be wore by Digimon and Human, and yet tamed by the Daemon Mother to balance the power radiated from the Black Lens.

He adjusted so the weights won't pull on him as much, and took a look around his surroundings. A wide, ancient beach was at his far right, seen from between the wide leaves. The sounds of the gentle waves crashing were heard, but there was something else. A sound of faint buzzing was coming from his far left. Narrowing his golden eyes, he listened for the buzzing as he attempted to see the source. It grew louder, but not sharper, coming closer.

He moved back in the dimness and waited. Almost immediately, a Flymon swiftly flew past, so fast that he missed it. So that's what the buzzing came from. The Flymon must be coming from its Village. He closed his eyes, trying to recall what the Village's name that usually inhabited Insect Digimon was.

The Giga Houses, the strange houses too gigantic for humans to live, yet suitable for the Insect Digimon, Even though they were seen as repulsive, disgusting creatures, they were civilized and enjoyed life as one would. Some were kind and shy, while the others were aggressive in territorial protection and would fight without reluctance. 

A scheme appeared in his mind, and Demidevimon grinned darkly.

He was not here for revenge on the children. He was not here to follow his Mother's orders. He was not here to observe the lands for precious memories anymore.

He just wanted to have fun.

***

"Land ho!" Willis bellowed, and his yell brought the attention of the children and Digimon to the place they were heading for.

Nine Digimon traversed across the vast ocean that covered the Digiworld, much like the Real World, traveling north. There were submerging the surface, being so swift that they left behind white billows. In the front of the trio, Ikkakumon was leading, born to swim the ocean, and upon his white, thick-furred back, sat Jyou near the horn, along with Kimika, Ken, Iyumon, and Wormon sitting nearby. Behind Ikkakumon, Seadramon slithered his snaky body, used to swim in deep lakes and rivers, not oceans, trying to keep up with the walrus, carrying Michael, Frankie, and Elecmon on his back. Submarimon remarkably danced among the billows, Iori safely nestling inside.

The other six Digimon were soaring, some low to the ocean, the rest drifting high. Takeru and Hikari mounted upon Pegasusmon and Nefertimon, flapping their wings with calmness. Birdramon left behind feathers of red fire, carrying Sora, Mimi and Palmon upon her back, they unharmed by the fire, which only can harm ones with dark souls. Aquilamon soared beside her, Miyako and Willis holding his Twin Digimon in their arms, being so small and can be caught in the wing by their large ears.

In the front of all the Digimon, Kabuterimon, the largest Champion of all the Destined Digimon, buzzed melodiously with his gossamer wings. Koushiro sat upon the helmeted head, and Taichi, Yamato, and Cleo rested on the back, held on the odd-shaped scales of the Insect Digimon. Agumon and Gabumon also seated with them. Beside Kabuterimon, Ruigumon followed, also making a quite different buzz with her butterfly wings.

When Willis called, the kids and Digimon took attention to the front. Slowly, appearing in the sight, a thin strip of land seemed to grow from the horizon, the color of hazy blue and pink, indicating that the land was perhaps covered with jungles. But later, as the land become a moderate island, seemed tiny compared to File Island itself, but quite large enough to support a large city. It looked normal to the group, but somehow, the island gave out some kind of invisible energy, felt from inside, felt strength from it.

"This is the Destiny Island," Cleo spoke from her seat, her voice barely heard over the buzzing sound.

Taichi knelt from his position and shielded his eyes from the bright sun. He took his time studying the island, and turned to the blonde. "Do you know where the cave is?"

She nodded, brushing back strands of hair from her eyes. "When we arrive, I will show you."

The Digimon found a spot on a new beach to go ashore. The children dismounted from the Digimon and the monsters dedigivolved back to their Rookie Forms. They stared around in wonderment that they never knew anything about such an island like this. The only island they ever visited was File Island. The Destiny Island, Cleo had said, was north of File Island, but it was too far to see from any northern beach. Not many Digimon knew about it, not even the Sea Digimon. It was like the island was hidden to all eyes, except the chosen group.

Cleo headed for the rocks that lined a part of the beach. The beach was newly formed, and the golden sand barely covered the sharp, rugged rocks. The party took care of climbing on the rocks, which were slippery with the loud waves crashing against; the winged Digimon decided to take to the air, disliked the idea of climbing.

The rocks were clearly unsafe to climb upon, but Cleo seemed to know the way without risking herself, skipping to one stone to another, and the rest was careful to follow her path, helping each other whenever one was about to slip off. The rocks acted like stairs, ascending, and then descending, until the group saw a cave opening from a cliff face. The opening was rather small, but not too small for anybody to get through.

One by one, the group stepped from the slick stones to the smooth, level flooring of the cave. Noticeably, the cave was not normal, for the walls and the floor were too smooth, as if someone flattered the ruggedness. Who knew if the cave was manmade or even Digimon-made?

Also, there was a faint light spreading out from the walls, mellow and easy to the eyes. Just like what they felt from the Destiny Island, the group sensed power behind the simple cave, and they followed Cleo in silence, perhaps not wanting to disturb the peaceful stillness in the moist air.

The tunnel was short in length, and soon, they saw an archway built in the roof, acting like an opened door. They noticed strange symbols written on the curve, perhaps digicode. They were uncomprehending, the Digimon having no understanding to read the difficult, advanced language. Even Koushiro, the only one out of all the Digidestined who was able to read digicode, appeared puzzled.

They entered under the archway and found themselves in a huge cavern, wide enough to hold a house. The walls and floor were soft white, not the natural grey-tan as those in the tunnel. The ceiling was built into a dome shape, also white. The group spread out, curiosity taking better of them, wandered quietly. On the center of the floor, they observed a circle of the Crest symbols of the Old Kids, easily recognized, deeply engraved on the stone floor so they would remain for a time.

The eight symbols of Courage, Friendship, Empathy, Sincerity, Love, Soul, Reliability, and Knowledge were in the circle, set around one more symbol that was recently known to most of the group - the symbol of Heart. Some paused at that, remembering old memories sparked by the sight.

Then Iori spoke, his quiet voice echoing in the domed cavern, "Look, the message on the wall is in the same writing as the one on the arch." He was standing on the far side, his emerald eyes sweeping over writings that were also engraved on the stone.

"I will translate them," Koushiro volunteered, already toward the writing, with Kimika at his heels. Koushiro can read digicode, although like a child understanding big words and Kimika can see the meaning of the riddles if the writings were riddles.

While they studied the strange writings, Takeru was looking intently at the circle. He was recalling a certain image that looked so much like to the circle. He was the only one that scrutinized the circle with careful caution. The others murmured words to themselves to each other, rather curious of the dome cavern itself.

"What is this place?" Mimi asked the unspoken question stirring in some of the group.

They looked over to Cleo, who had been here once, but she only shrugged to the question. "I do not know the name. All I know is this is where we are supposed to get the crests and D-3s."

"Guys, I think we know what the message means." They listened to Koushiro's words as he explained, "It's not a riddle, but an easy one. _Unlock your emblems with the Keys of your Virtues, and you will be given what you seek.'_"

"What keys?" Hikari asked.

"The Digital Keys," Kimika pointed out. "They bear our virtues."

"You mean the Digital Keys are really yours?" Daisuke muttered, puzzled at that.

"What does it mean by unlock'?" Ken voiced. "Unlock what?"

"Crest symbols," Mimi gave the answer. She was kneeling by her symbol, eyes wide wit amazement. "Look, the symbol has a hold in the middle!" Sure enough, when the group looked closer to the symbols, there were tiny, odd-shaped holes, just big enough to fit a finger in, built in the exact centers of the symbols.

"Maybe it's a keyhole," Mimi murmured.

Miyako stooped beside her, removing the pale green Key of Sincerity from her neck and placing it in her hand. "Then let's unlock it!"

Nodding, Mimi set the Key in the hold. She quietly gasped. "It fits."

"I get it," Jyou understood. "We have to open the symbols to get the D-3s."

Taichi agreed with him and said, "Okay, let's try unlocking them."

The New Kids removed the Digital Keys, the Keys the Old Kids entrusted them to guard, and handed them over. Only Cleo, Willis, Hikari, and Takeru had none. And they watched as the Old Kids placed the Digital Keys in the keyholes' of the symbols. As one, they turned the Keys.

"Huh?" Daisuke uttered in bewilderment. "Nothing happened."

"There must be something we overlooked," Michael guessed, and the rest nodded in agreement.

Takeru was still distracted of the memory of the circle, trying to clear up the meaning. He stared at the Heart's symbol in the center, alone and silent. It was like his Crest symbol in the center of the Circle of the Crests. He began to think he knew why nothing happened. "Cleo?" he spoke. "Go see if your symbol has a keyhole."

The cavern was silent as Cleo gazed back, her face puzzled. "What? I don't have any key to unlock it."

"Just do it." Takeru has the light appeal in his face.

The youngest Old Kid watched him for a bit, and then stepped past the circle to stand beside her symbol, taking a careful gaze. She then shook her head. "No keyhole."

Takeru nodded slowly as if was expecting the answer. "Then stand on it."

The Watcher blinked.

"TK, what are you trying to do?" His brother demanded.

He didn't reply back, now understanding the meaning of the circle. Again, he requested, "Protector, trust me."

She remained silent, then shrugging, stepped right on the Crest of Heart's symbol. Abruptly, the symbol seemed to burst into light, the thick rays twinkling upward, the color of lilac, seeming to react to her crest that dangled from her neck, also glowing with the baby purple aura. Her clothing and ivory hair fluttered about, as if was being blown by a gentle zephyr, yet there was no movement in the cave air. Bathed in the purple light, she stood frozen, looking frightened, but did not step out of the way, as though her entire body activated the symbol.

At the same time, the eight symbols encircling the Heart began to glow with their colors, rainbows of the ways illuminating the faces of the astonished children and Digimon, intense, pleasant, and powerful altogether. The Digital Keys that were positioned in the keyholes also glowed with the same colors of the symbols, and all of a sudden, colorful beams leaped from the Keys and snatched the Digivices right from the Old Kids' holds. They cried out with surprise, but didn't reach out for them, for the beams handled them with gentleness, the Digivices floating in midair above the Digital Keys.

Cleo's face lightly tensed as if hurt of something inside her chest, and the Crest of Heart glowed brighter. Eight tiny beams fired from it, each aiming for the Digivices, in perfect unison. The purple beams struck them, and for a moment, they glowed with the lilac aura. The Digikeys raised themselves out of the holes and floated beside their respective Digivices. The Keys seemed to melt, their masses engulfing the Digivices. Then the Digivices lowered themselves on the floor. The glow faded from all the symbols, and lastly, the Crest of Heart's light also vanished.

Cleo swayed on her feet, exhausted, and dropped down to her knees. Takeru quickly went to her side. The Old Kids dashed to their Digivices, but then they paused in speechless amazement as they witnessed something incredible. Before their eyes, the Digivices slowly modified, tiny bolts of pale purple darted among the lines, as if they were the ones responsible for the transformation. The Digivices grew in size, becoming D-3s. The only differences were the colors.

Taichi's D-3 was fiery orange with pale azure lines. Yamato's was dark indigo with emerald-green lines. Kimika's was pale silver with maroon red lines. Mimi's was pale jade green with soft lavender lines. Sora's was blood red with ivory-white lines. Frankie's was ice-white with peach-orange lines. Jyou's was deep steel-black with soft grey lines. Koushiro's was bold violet with grayish-black lines.

The Old Kids reached to touch the D-3s, and something happened. The very moment the fingers touched the devices, blinding colors burst from the screens, blinding all in the dome. The lights seemed to shallow the Old Kids, lingering for a moment, then finally, the lights faded. The New Kids turned to see what happened. To their surprise, the Old Kids were changed in clothing. No longer, they were clad in their casual clothing, but now wore strange clothing. The New Kids immediately recognized them as the same clothing their Protectors wore in their tests.

Tai wore a kind of orange fabric that looked like what ancient knights would wear over their armor, a tabard, with pale blue pants. Matt wore a heavy hooded cloak that covered both back and front, colored dark blue with dark green pants. Kim wore a fighting uniform, light grey with red fringes among the edges. Mimi wore a pretty Hawaiian-like wrap and shirt, all pale green with painted vines and leaves of lavender on. Sora wore a red kimono with a white obi. Frankie wore a white knee-length overcoat with orange shirt and pants. Joe wore a pitch-black tunic and dark grey pants and Koushiro wore a purple vest, pants, and a black breechcloth.

Cleo was the only one who didn't have an uniform. She still wore her white pullover, denim Capri and sandals.

__

(A/N: I'm too lazy to detail the uniforms further so you have to look in 'Keys to their Hearts' and 'Snow Angels' to find more details of the uniforms. Xp Sorry for being so lackadaisical.

Dai: Lacka - what? What does that word mean?

Demy: *reads in the dictionary* 'Showing lack of interest or spirit'

Debbie: *frowns* I didn't lack interest in my stories. I'm just lazy. And what did I say about reading in my dictionary?!)

The Old Kids were astonished at their change of clothes and the changes of their Digivices. The Digimon then hugged them, glad that they finally had the chance to digivolve into Mega. Now they can help fight. The New Kids also congratulated them.

"Cleo, are you okay?" Takeru asked, worried. "I'm sorry I made you stand on the symbol."

She shook her head, her face paled, but regaining color. "I felt like my energy was drained away, but I'm okay."

Takeru exhaled in relief. "It's just . . . the circle reminds me of the Circle of the Crests. I stood in the middle and received my power that way. I just thought maybe you were the one who was needed to activate the D-3s."

Cleo only nodded, and then her eyes were attracted to a movement underneath her feet. Together, Cleo and Takeru stood up in an abstracted silence as they watched the Heart symbol slowly creeping from the center and snuggled in between the symbols of Courage and Knowledge. The rest also saw it, uneasy of the result, and then suddenly, "Hey, the writing is changing!" Willis voiced in astonishment. The digicode on the far side seemed to move around, the runes stretching and curling until they finally stopped, different in appearance.

Koushiro went to them, touching them, his lips moving in wordless thoughts, and then he grinned, turning to the group. "I think it's about the New Kids."

"How so?" Sora questioned.

"Listen to this_. Stand on your Protectors' souls to glow, and you will be given your souls.'_"

"Does it mean that we have to stand on your symbols?" Iori said.

Koushiro nodded. "I believe so."

Miyako glanced over to Taichi, who had his eyes on her that moment. He then smiled and nodded. She grinned back and spoke, "Okay, everybody, let's do it!"

As Takeru and Cleo withdrew from the circle, Daisuke putted one foot on the Courage symbol and the other on Friendship. The other New Kids did the same. Miyako and Iori had two Protectors, while Ken, Michael, and Willis only had one. Miyako stood on both Love and Sincerity, and Iori took the position on Knowledge and Reliability. Ken stood on Empathy between Daisuke and Miyako. Standing on the symbol of Soul, Michael stood amid of Miyako and Iori. Lastly, Willis stood in the midst of Daisuke and Iori, his feet touching the Heart symbol.

The symbols again glowed with the Old Kids' colors, mingling together upon the New Kids. One by one, the group saw the kids' chests beginning to glow with whole new colors, perhaps the colors of their hearts.

Daisuke was engulfed with a pale orange color, the color of coral born in the deep reefs, soft, yes, but aggressive, like a strong soul waiting to break through. Ken's glow was light pinkish-purple, a lavender color, as soothing as the medical plant. A soft red aura surrounded Miyako, so like the soft petals of a red rose, beautiful in appearance, but lethal if not carefully handled. Michael's light was pale whitish-blue, the color of fresh ice in winter, perfectly matched his eyes, intense and sharp. The aura encircled Iori was a dark purple with a bit of red in, much like aged wine, intoxicating and spirited. The radiance of Willis was a charming green, reminding of the calm sea at daybreak.

Then something happened. Ken always kept his cherished Crest of Kindness on his body, and somehow, it knew it was its time to wake. Moving on a life on its own, it drew itself from his pant pocket and came to hover in front of him. Ken never noticed, neither did the other New Kids, their eyes closed, concentrated.

The New Kids gave out sudden cries of pain, all in unison, and there was the impulsive sound of snapping, somehow exploding the very air of the cavern as tiny balls burst out from their chests, whirling in place, floating in midair. They spun so swiftly that they were blurs, but they slowed down, and soon, the Old Kids could see the objects.

"They look like . . ." Sora murmured.

"Crests!" Frankie finished, grinning

The new crests, nestled in polished brass tags, now drifted in midair as the New Kids collapsed to their knees, sensing throbbing pain in their chests. It appeared that the only way to get their Crests was to let their souls glow and give up a part of them. The new Crests floated downward onto their hands, and the New Kids sat silently, awed to the new symbols and names that symbolized them.

The Crest of Loyalty was in the color of coral-orange, and the symbol was a lined yin-yang with four points on the outside, much like a simple star of balance.

The Crest of Purity was in rose-red color, and the symbol was two teardrops, the points downward, the sides touching together, looking like a perfect heart with a line running down.

The Crest of Wisdom was a dark wine-purple color, and the symbol was a thick-armed cross set inside a thin ring, the ends of the cross .

The Crest of Mercy was ice-blue, and the symbol was a rugged spearhead, the point facing the bottom, the rugged sides damaging, but the point used to relieve pain, harm and heal in one.

The Crest of Justice was the mellow sea green hue, and the symbol was a four-pointed star, the rays diamond-shaped, and the points not touching.

The Crest of Kindness remained the same, with no change, the lavender color with the symbol of waves billowing among a setting sun, so soothing, and so gentle.

It was the Old Kids' turn to congratulate the New Kids, eager to see the symbols that were almost alike to their crest symbols. For a while, the cavern was filled with words of praise and pride, the children and Digimon unaware of a small blond girl standing at the entrance, not facing anybody. There was tension in her small body, and later, one finally noticed her.

Taichi noticed her. He was worried about her. He was the leader, of course, and should keep in touch with his friends' feelings and opinions with empathy and care. But he knew that Cleo was not a follower or a leader. She was simply a part of the group, giving valuable information. Yet, he felt that she did a great help to them.

He strode toward her, watching as her worried Digimon tried to stir her attention. The blonde didn't respond, too preoccupied. Her face was very pale and frightened, her head cocking to a side, listening to something too quiet for him to hear. He placed a hand on her shoulder, murmuring quietly, "Cleo-chan, is there something wrong?"

__

I'm not sure, Tai-san. Just now, I sense something wrong.'

Taichi jerked his head at the sudden words inscribed in the blackness of his mind, colored brilliant iridescent, like swelling fire. Even he had seen her words once, it was so sudden that he couldn't grasp on the words. He did feel the dread from the word, and his heart turned cold.

"How bad?" he questioned.

She turned her dismayed face at him and replied, "Very bad."

"Cleo!" He then heard his sister calling as she ran to the blonde's side. He noticed that she had the shocked visage on her lightly freckled face. Her voice was also shaking. "Did you sense it?"

Cleo nodded silently, and then Willis showed up. He, too, was troubled and unhappy. "There is something wrong over there - on the mainland."

Taichi didn't understand about the abilities of the Digiwalkers. He watched on in uneasiness as the three Digiwalkers kept their eyes toward a spot, as though they were watching the mainland, although all they stared at was one of the white walls. He then jumped at the light touch of Miyako, lost in thought, worrying of what danger they sensed.

She appeared disturbed, glancing at the Digiwalkers, and gazed back, gravely. "What's going on?"

He sighed. "Trouble."

***

The Black Lens lay in front of him, and he held the Crest of Silence in his wings, excitement buzzing through his mind, but he forced himself to keep calm. He will have his fun. He stroked the smooth surface of the Black Lens with a wing-finger, and the lens began to glow. It was an understatement that it was _glowing_. The best words to describe its glow were that it _sucked_ light. It _drew in_ the essence of the light itself, _sapping_ life from the surroundings, the bright pink and blue leaves withering and fading into ugly brown and grey colors. The ground seemed to _lose_ life, also, the rich soil becoming dusty and flaky.

The Black Lens didn't touch him. It knew what he wanted, and it granted it.

The Black Lens shot out a beam of dark light through the Crest of Silence. The crest was surrounded with the budging light, twisting and swirling, eager to get free, and finally, it did. The dark light fired from the crest and bound him in the fierce darkness. _What power! What strength! He never tasted such might like this!_ He could feel the essence pulsating in his entire soul, so passionate and ferocious, that instead of fearing it, he embraced it.

He was ready.

__

Demidevimon, warp-digivolve into . . . Vampdevimon!

To be continued!

HA! *Runs away* Cliffhanger! Cliffhanger! Don't you love them! Muahahahah!! Ehh . . . *escapes under her digi-rock and attempts to finish the next part to satisfy the rabid fans* Aye! Rabid! I tell you, rabid. ^_^;;


	6. The Battle with the Vampire

I actually feel bad for holding this saga back too long because I do think the saga is progressing really well. I really want to finish it so you can see what I thought of the history of Digimon, Daematermon, and everything else. This is the most profound and most detailed saga I'd ever worked on and I enjoy working on it very much. :)

This chapter is very new. The past chapters are only the reformatted chapters from the earliest drafts. This chapter is completely new and very active. It's all about fighting, old fashioned fighting between good and evil. I'm quite proud of it. 

Now I will let you read it and enjoy yourself. :) 

What is a disclaimer, I ask? ^_~

Children of the Digital: 

Part Six: The Battle with the Vampire

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

It was raining.

Raindrops drizzled from grey clouds that recently gathered together in the azure sky. It was odd, indeed, for just several minutes ago, the weather was clear and warm, and now as if it knew it couldn't last, the climate became gloomy and dark. The clouds blocked the sun, dimming the sunlight, looking like it was just before twilight. The rain wasn't heavy, lightly falling upon the two creatures flying eastward above the rippling ocean.

Cleo didn't even try to brush back damp hair as she kept a tight hold around Ruigumon's neck. She was 'piggybacked' on her back, the butterfly being one of the fastest Digimon. Cleo had sensed a new presence, a new kind of Digimon that she barely recognized as a Virus type. She couldn't sense any danger, like Frankie could, but she did sense something _wrong_. She could _feel_ the fabric of reality of the Digiworld being twisted and tainted inside her mind. That Digimon was something wrong that should not have been made. She knew that the _wrongness_ was hurting the Digiworld, and she insisted to go find out.

Taichi had agreed with her suggestion and encouraged her to go first so she could find out and warn the Digidestined afterward. The Digidestined and Digimon were preparing to depart the island when she and her Digimon took off.

She kept her eyes forward, trying to see the approaching mainland, the wrongness pulsating in her mind. Slowly, she began to see a mass of blackness appearing from among the mainland. She felt the wrongness from it, unsightly and titanic. It stood in one place, two upper limbs swaying around like it was trying to snatch something out of the air.

"What is that?" Cleo uttered.

"I don't know . . ." Ruigumon shook her head, frowning. She slowed down into a hovering stop. "Looks like . . ."

"Wait a second!" Cleo narrowed her eyes, remembering the vague details.

A huge, giant creature stood on two legs, the leathery skin greasy black, somewhat like oil on water, muscles budging underneath. The arms were so long that the hands reached beyond the knees, but the creature was not hunched, standing tall and haughty. The hands were claw-like with long fingers, topped with curled red nails. A torn pair of dark red pants enfolded his thick legs, the tattered ends cut just below his knees.

His head was beastly; it was hard to tell if it was the face of a bear or a snake or even a human. A lipless mouth grinned malevolently beneath a pointed, hawk-like nose. A pair of bat wings, also black and greasy, spread from the sides of his head, a disgusting imitation of Patamon's bat-wing ears. He also had long dirty blond hair, spiked and matted. His eyes were slanted, the pupils slit like a snake, the irises deep, glowing golden.

Cleo gasped in horror. "He looks like Venommyotismon!" She could still remember the hideous Digimon four years ago. 

"What?!" Ruigumon was disbelieved. "It can't be. He is dead, finally dead!"

Cleo shook her head. "I'm uncertain it is actually him, though. We're too far to tell."

Ruigumon nodded, glancing back. "We need to get closer."

Cleo gazed back over her shoulder. She could see tiny figures of the swimming and flying Digimon getting close. Should she wait for them to arrive or continue to get closer to the Digimon? She sighed. She promised to find more about the Digimon, and she didn't find enough. She then tightened her hold, saying, "Right. Let's go."

The Butterfly Digimon resumed her flight, her wings fluttering faster to get ahead of the coming group. After a moment, Cleo noticed tiny dusts drifting past them, all in different colors, but she wasn't sure they were dust balls. They looked familiar. They looked like pixels that made the Digiworld and Digimon.

"That monster is destroying Digimon!" she cried in dismay as she realized the horrible fate.

Ruigumon was outraged, didn't notice the pixels until now. She clenched her fists, growling, "No Digimon has the right to do that!" In her blind anger, she soared forward, but almost suddenly, her growl was cut off by a terror-stricken choke strangling her throat. She jerked into a stop, so sudden, that Cleo was just lucky to have her arms held tight, or she would have fallen into the ocean.

"Ruigumon!" Cleo exclaimed, worried, as Ruigumon struggled to take a breath, her hands clawing at her throat. "Ruigumon, what's wrong?!"

The Digimon only gave nothing before she stopped her wings in motion, and she lost consciousness. Cleo screamed as they plunged down into the icy-cold ocean. Panicking, she thrashed about, trying to find the surface, and finally, she broke through the waters, gasping for breath. Spitting out water, she then yelled for her Digimon.

She saw Ruigumon just regaining her consciousness and she swan toward her, deeply worried. Ruigumon appeared pale, breathing labored, and she was relieved when Cleo arrived. Cleo wrapped her arms around her Digimon's neck, both for keeping afloat and giving her comfort. 

"Ruigumon, what happened?" she asked.

Ruigumon took another breath, her face haggard. "I . . . I don't know. All of a sudden, I couldn't breathe. There is . . . foulness in the air."

Cleo blinked. "Foulness?" 

The Butterfly nodded. "The air is corrupted and it comes from him." She turned to point a finger toward the dark creature. 

Cleo was puzzled. How could her Digimon feel foulness and she didn't? Then her hearing perked at the call of her name. She gazed upward and back. Kabuterimon was flying near and near, and she could make out the five figures on his head, one calling her name. 

"Cleo!" Koushiro was shouting on the top of his lungs, over Kabuterimon's buzzing. "Cleo, are you -"

He was cut off by the sudden chokes of Kabuterimon. Cleo widened her eyes in fright, as Kabuterimon appeared to convulse, his claws going to his throat. Like Ruigumon . . . A golden light came around the bug and in an instant, dedigivolved back into his Rookie stage. Her heart clenched as the small bug, Koushiro, Taichi, Yamato, Agumon, and Gabumon pummeled right into the water. Cleo's mind wanted to swim to them to see if they were all right, but her body was immobile, as she watched the same spectacle happening to the coming Digimon.

Birdramon and Aquilamon seemed to be pulled in place, choking screeches escaping their throats. Again the golden light surrounded them and forced them to dedigivolve into Rookies. Sora, Mimi, Palmon, Biyomon, Miyako, Willis, Hawkmon, Terriermon and Lopmon fell in the water. But they were all right, shocked and shaken at what just happened.

Ikkakumon was nearing behind, and Cleo could hear Jyou shouting. She watched as Ikkakumon's ice blue eyes widened and he suffocated. His huge body rocked and his movements knocked Jyou, Kimika, Ken, Iyumon, and Wormon right off and right in the water. Then Ikkakumon dedigivolved back into Gomamon, looking suddenly drained. Seadramon was behind and he didn't make a choke, but instead lost consciousness, sinking in the water. As he dedigivolved into Betamon, Michael, Frankie, and Elecmon tumbled into the water.

Cleo was concerned about the safety of the kids and Digimon, but something else struck her speechless. She noticed that the Armor Digimon, Pegasusmon, Nefertimon, and Submarimon didn't dedigivolve at all. A recall appeared in her head, somewhat waking her to the Armor Digimon's capability. 

Taichi's voice broke through her thoughts as he shouted, "Is everybody alright?" Around her, she heard tired and confused voices saying 'yes' and 'kind of'. The Digimon looked suddenly fatigued and weak, and the Digidestined were worried, bewildered at what just happened.

"Come on," Taichi encouraged, "swim to the shore!"

Cleo wondered how could Ruigumon swim when she was exhausted, but Ruigumon, being a flying Digimon, wanted to get out of the water, as well as some of the Digimon. The group made efforts to swim toward the shore. The Armor Digimon helped out, picking out and carrying Digimon too tired to move. They arrived to the shore, and the Digidestined were the ones who tried to help the Digimon moving on. Cleo wobbled under Ruigumon's weight as she aided her to sit down on the sand. There, she collapsed, worn out from the long swim. Cleo glanced around, taking in the sights of the tired Digimon and kids. She heard the Digidestined questioning the Digimon what was the matter. The Digimon responded with haggard expressions that they were struck by a horrible foulness in the air, like the air was corrupted and they were forced to lose energy. They had no idea how, but they knew that they were now helpless, their energy gone.

She saw Frankie standing up. His face was dour as he faced the forest near the beach. 

"Danger . . ." he said to all, pointing forward. "There is great danger out there."

Cleo turned to look, but rain and trees blocked her vision. She would guess that the danger Frankie was feeling was the dark creature. Again her heart clenched, wondering at the _wrongness_ she felt. It was wrong! That monster can't be existent or the very existence would hurt the Digiworld. She was worried if they should go ahead and fight him. He looked too powerful and he would destroy - 

An abrupt chorus of death screams sounded from within the forest. Cleo gasped, whirling around, preparing to face whoever screamed, as the others did. She saw nothing, but the screams continued, and the horror and pain tore to her beating heart.

"The Digimon . . ." Sora whispered, her voice shaking with emotions. 

"How can we save them?" Michael said, his face darkening with distress. "We are too exhausted." Sure enough, he couldn't stand up, his limbs sore.

"And we can't fight if we can't digivolve . . ." Agumon was the one who spoke. The rest of the Digimon nodded.

Cleo could feel the pain and helplessness in the minds and she was shocked. She thought that they would go ahead and fight even though they were too tired. She had to help them! But how . . .? She glanced around and her eyes landed on Pegasusmon and Nefertimon, who stood nearby. Submarimon has dedigivolved back to Armadillomon on his will, not by the foulness. She didn't get it. How can it be possible? The Champion Digimon have dedigivolved because they can't resist the powerfulness of the foulness, and yet the Armor Digimon were still in their Armor Stages. They didn't lose any energy. They were . . . protected . . .

Cleo blinked, remembering. She remembered what Prophetmon told her about the Armor Digieggs, long before the New Kids found them. Prophetmon has said, _'The Armor Digieggs may help the Digimon resist the power of the Control Spires, but there are more to them than meets the eye. There's a way for the Digimon to block the darkness. You have to watch carefully.'_

She got it. Standing up on wobbly knees, Cleo said, "Wait, there is a way."

All gazed over to her. "What is it?" Kimika asked.

Cleo pointed over to the Armor Digimon. "Look at them. They didn't digivolve." Then the answer popped in her mind and she grinned. "That's it! The Armor Digieggs! The Armor Digieggs can block the dark energy from the Control Spires, right? Then they probably can block the corruption!"

The group was truly surprised, as they comprehended the fact. Koushiro spoke, "It could be possible. Pegasusmon and Nefertimon didn't lose energy because they are protected."

"But would nine Armor Digimon be enough against that Digimon?" Miyako said, pointing toward where the unseen creature was.

Taichi glanced over to her and nodded. "It's true . . ." He turned to the Old Kids, saying, "Our Digimon might have to digivolve into Mega to help out."

"Is that wise?" Yamato voiced. "They are too tired."

"No, Matt," Gabumon said. "We may lose most of our energy, but I think we have enough to digivolve into Mega." The rest of the Digimon also nodded.

Taichi smiled, and then looked to Miyako. "Go ahead."

Miyako nodded and stood up. "Alright, guys, let's show who is the New Digidestined around here!"

The New Kids shouted encouragements and stood up. As one, eight hands, clenching their D-3s, shot up in the air. Eight voices yelled in unison. "Digi-Armor, Energize!"

_Veemon, Armor-digivolve into . . . Raidramon, the Storm of Friendship!_

_Hawkmon, Armor-digivolve into . . . Shurimon, the Samurai of Sincerity!_

_Armadillomon, Armor-digivolve into . . . Digmon, the Power of Knowledge!_

_The silver Crest of Empathy - an extended line twisted itself into a rainbow with a swirl at one end - slowly spins in place as a revolving Wormon and the rotating Digiegg of Empathy appear, then they combine together to Digivolve._

_Wormon, Armor-Digivolve into . . ._

_Wormon is surrounded by a silver aura as thin rings of the rainbow arise from below. As silver rays enshroud him, the Digimon Guardians of Empathy appear in vague images - the heedful Iyumon, the humane Rianmon, and the mysterious Nightrianmon._

_A razor-sharp thick tail impels through the mist. Two gigantic wings full of pure silver feathers open wide, free from the swirling clouds. Then two slanting reptilian eyes, an exquisite ice-blue color, twinkle from the eyeholes of a shapely mask. He makes coiling movements, twisting his lengthy body majestically, and then floats in midair as plumes of silver spread outward from behind on an indigo background._

_A majestic winged snake is to be believed as a bearer of fortune in some cultures. Good luck does he bear for his friends and bad luck for his enemies. His whole body is one long length and limbless, ending up into a muscular red-tipped tail that can rip flesh again with a fierce slash. His scales are small, elliptical, mingled together as if welded. The scales are dazzling silver with red lines around the edges, all over his body. It's no wonder that his name means 'quicksilver'._

_Two impressive wings sprout from behind his head, the feathers silver with black tips. His only other armor is a smooth black-lined silver helmet that encloses around his entire head. The symbol of the Crest of Empathy is emblazoned on the front of the helmet, colored dark grey. The ice-blue eyes, so much alike to Wormon's own eyes, are full of kindness with a touch of slyness._

_But remember, he may look charming, but underneath that beautiful appearance, he's a snake with an attitude._

_. . . Suiginmon, the Fortune of Empathy!_

_The white Crest of Soul - a downward soaring comet with a half-moon as its head - slowly spins in place as a revolving Betamon and the rotating Digiegg of Soul appear, and then they combine together to Digivolve._

_Betamon, Armor-Digivolve into . . ._

_Betamon is surrounded by a snow-white aura as rings of bluish-white ice arise from below. As white rays encircle him, the Digimon Guardians of Soul appear in the background in vague images - the cheerful Elecmon, the eager Mamemon, and the powerful Metalmamemon._

_A crescent-shaped blade fastened to the top of a long wooden staff is clasped in a firm left fist, appearing from the clouds of white. The right-gloved fist lined with tiny feathers of blue exposes out. Then the clouds evaporate to display a stern face of a tan-furred coyote underneath a headdress of colorful plumes. Golden slanted eyes wisely open, seeming to glow with mystical power. He rotates to a side, grasping the long staff behind him, as a yellow-hued moon rises in the pale blue background._

_A coyote standing on his hind paws is clad in night blue leather clothing: a sleeveless vest embellished with long fringes around the chest and loose knee-length pantaloons sewn with patches of stars and crescents. His pointed ears are seen through the feather headdress, and a long thick tail of glossed tan fur sways behind him. _

_Yet, the simple clothing and headdress that seemed unprotected against physical attacks are in fact made of the indestructible Chrondigizoid. The weapon he bears is lethal, the red blade touched with poison, craved with the Crest of Soul on the sides, and the wooden staff is emblazoned with strange runes that only he can invoke their power through._

_The golden eyes of the coyote possess the supernatural powers of the Trickster Deity, touched with the strong protection for his companions. _

_ . . . Bravemon, the Native of Soul! _

_The lilac Crest of Heart - a half-heart with a four-pointed star in the center - slowly spins in place as the revolving Terriermon and Lopmon, and the rotating Digiegg of Heart appear, and then they combine together to Digivolve._

_Terriermon and Lopmon, Armor-Digivolve into . . . _

_Lilac mists surround the twin brothers as tiny butterflies fluidly flutter around. As those fey butterflies encircle them, the Digimon Guardians of Heart appear in the back ground in vague images - the promising Honemon, the humble Dewimon, and the dynamic Ruigumon._

_Huge butterfly wings the color of fresh milk flutter gracefully from clouds of the tiny butterflies as a clawed gauntlet of deep yellow appear out. Then the insects vanish to reveal two heads, side by side. Two eyes of black glow with boldness from one head as the hidden eyes sparkle from behind a diamond-jeweled helmet. A flash of white, a slash of gold, and then two steadfast guardians pose in the center, one hovering above the other, as white butterflies soar from behind on the background of pale orange._

_One who stands earthbound is a fierce warrior of his strength. Humanoid, he's clad in armor made of unbreakable gold. A polished breastplate is set on his bare robust chest, emblazoned with a half-heart on the center for his name, and plates of gold fortify over his black-panted thick legs. His strong hands are gloved with golden gauntlets, armed with long claws as lethal weapons. His hair is formed into a golden topknot, the color of the sun, clouding around his board shoulders, letting his rabbit ears swaying free._

_His brother is airborne, the guardian of the sky. A gentle one, he's clad in a humble tabard of white, fluttering about his legs, tied around his waist with a red belt. He also wears white loose pantaloons, but he's bare-chested underneath, just like his brother. On his back, graceful butterfly wings keep him aloft, all white and magnificent. His head is protected by the diamond-jeweled white helm, his billowing silvery white hair flowing behind his back. On the front of the helmet, a four-pointed star is imprinted on, the symbol of his name, as well._

_They say that brothers are at their highest power when together, and as soon as you observe these brothers of faith in battle, you will know that nothing shall divide between them._

_ . . . Kokoromon and Hoshimon, the Princes of Heart!_

The New mounted the flying Armor Digimon and took off to the air as the land Armor Digimon followed behind. The Old Kids watched them departing, their hearts yearning to join the battle and yet their minds knew that they were powerless. Even with their powers, the Old Kids still felt helpless, left behind. The Old Digimon looked different; they were thrilled, battle fire raging in their eyes. They finally got the ability to digivolve into the highest stage. They wanted to fight. They were born to fight.

Jyou turned his gaze to Taichi, saying, "Tai, are you sure we should let our Digimon digivolve into Mega that soon?"

Gomamon gave him an annoyed look. "Don't tell me you are still pessimistic."

Jyou crossed his arms, looking worried. "I'm worried, that's all."

"I understand your concerns," Mimi said.

"But Mimi, I know I can do it," protested Palmon. Her soft green eyes were hardened, eager. "You have to let me."

The Digimon nodded, their bodies tense and ready. They gazed up to their Digidestined with pleading looks and some of the Digidestined sighed and the others were hesitant. The group suddenly flinched at the abrupt explosions that nearly shook the ground. They could see the air lifting dirt upward, forming a dust storm. All the Digidestined's face slowly frowned, recalling their oath to protect the Digimon and the Digiworld.

"Palmon is right," Taichi said, his voice like fire. "They need help, and we have to fight, all of us." He gazed to each of them, directly and determined. His hand curled around his new D-3. "There is no turning back. Are you ready, Digidestined?"

The Digidestined took off their D-3s, clenching them, and they nodded with boldness. In unison, the eight Digidestined directed the D-3s upward; each of the devices radiated with its characteristic color, as Cleo's Crest of Heart again glowed to give Ruigumon fresh energy. And the Digimon digivolved.

_Agumon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Wargreymon!_

_Gomamon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Preciomon! _

_Iyumon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Silvedramon!_

_Palmon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Rosemon!_

_Tentomon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Herculeskabuterimon_

_Gabumon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Metalgarurumon!_

_Biyomon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Phoenixmon!_

_Elecmon, Warp-digivolve into . . . Paemon!_

_***_

_(A/N: . . . Herculeskabuterimon . . . (winces) Long names . . . gah . . . _

_Dai: Quick, Demy, tranquilize her. Debbie is traumatized at the long name.)_

_***_

From her seat behind Hikari, Miyako inhaled in a breath as she witnessed the creature. She has never seen such a monster before. The creature didn't look ugly or repulsive. He had the creepy appearance, but otherwise, he was powerful and prideful. Miyako watched him from on Nefertimon, her dun eyes studying the movements. His back was facing them, and he was using his arms to sweep the air as if swatting at the bugs, which he did. She heard Nefertimon quietly growling as the pixels drifted past them. Miyako felt her heart clenching at the Bug Digimon's deletions, but she kept her mouth shut. The Digimon's lives were at the sake and she had to trust herself to make the battle worthwhile.

The creature stopped and turned to face them, as if he knew they were there all along. Miyako inwardly flinched at the fierce face that was grinning with sadistic delight. He cocked his head at the tiny winged cat in the air and slowly crossed his arms. He just grinned and waited. His eyes struck Miyako in an unusual sensation. It was _so_ weird. When the rest of him was devious, his eyes were angelic. His eyes were dark golden, sparkling with energy, and yet they were angelic eyes. She was fascinated of his eyes.

"Yolei, what should we do?" Hikari's words broke through her thoughts. Miyako then frowned to herself. She didn't get it. It seemed that every time the New Kid fought, they looked to her for leadership. Even Daisuke. She knew she did have some leadership traits, but as a leader? She suddenly felt uneasy, not because they saw her as a leader, but because she was afraid that she would fail them.

She took a breath and looked back. Four Armor Digimon were floating behind Nefertimon, waiting for the order to attack. Ken has mounted Suiginmon and his twilight blue eyes were on her. Miyako's cheeks lightly reddened and looked over to Takeru, who was on Pegasusmon, holding Iori in front, they watching the creature with a mix of disgust and fright. Shurimon and Hoshimon calmly lingered, their bodies otherwise eager. She then looked down. Although she didn't see them from above the thick-padded trees, Daisuke, Michael, Willis with Raidramon, Kokoromon, Digmon, and Bravemon were waiting.

Miyako turned to the flying Digimon and said, "Stand by." Then she said to Nefertimon, "Get close."

"What?" Nefertimon hissed. "Are you crazy?"

Miyako thinned her lips, but Hikari soothed her Digimon, "Please, Nefertimon. Yolei knows what to do."

_'I don't know what to do! Oh, sheesh . . .'_ the Mistress sourly thought to herself.

Nefertimon wasn't very happy about that, but she moved closer, her white eyes hard on the creature. The creature appeared amused, grinning, and Miyako had the shivers that she just knew that there was no way to beat him. She cleared her breath and said, "Who are you?"

The creature arched his eyebrows and spoke. His voice was so deep and rumbling. "You ask me?"

"I'm the Mistress of the New Digidestined." Miyako then mentally recoiled at herself for sounding like a bug challenging an elephant. She crossed her arms. "We demand you to stop hurting the Digimon. They did nothing to you."

The creature nodded. "True, you are right, Mistress. But is it so wrong to show my strength?"

"Not when you hurt them!" Hikari uttered.

The golden eyes turned to her and he shook his head. "Hmm . . . you all are naïve. I'm not hurting them. I'm just playing."

Miyako heard Nefertimon speaking to herself, "He sounds familiar."

The creature heard her speaking with his sensitive hearing. He then grinned. "Hello, Gatomon. I'm sure you remember me when I was only a Rookie, serving our old Master. Do you remember?"

Nefertimon gasped in shock. "Can't be!"

"What is it, Nefertimon?" Hikari said, worried.

"He . . . he's Demidevimon!" Nefertimon exclaimed in disbelief. Hikari was speechless, her tan eyes on the creature.

"Who is Demidevimon?" Miyako demanded. The creature answered her.

"I was Demidevimon, but now I'm Vampdevimon," the creature said. He then grinned, spreading his arms, as if showing off himself. "This is my Mega form. Impressive, no?"

"Demidevimon was deleted long ago!" Nefertimon denied in incredulity. "He cannot be reborn because he was deleted in the real world."

Vampdevimon narrowed his golden eyes, locked on the white cat. His voice was then very low, soft and disapproving. "You spent too much time in the human world, Gatomon. You forgot that anything could happen here." He then pointed a bulky hand toward them.

Miyako's heart throbbed loudly and pained, her instincts bursting. He was going to attack! Her voice was shrill, "Retreat! _Retreat!"_

Nefertimon didn't respond. The angelic golden eyes were captivating, her white eyes attracted to them. Her body seemed to slacken, her wings slowing down. Hikari was yelling at her to move out of the way, but to no success.

_"Dark Fire!"_ The Vampire Digimon's hand began to glow with a horrible black light with red lightning licking around. A ray of completely black fire with red-tinted lightning fired out from his hand. Miyako made a scream as the fire enveloped the girls and Digimon. The fire seemed to suck out energy from her body, her skin sizzling in powerful pain. Yet the fire left no burns on her skin. Miyako heard her DNA partner crying out in pain, and suddenly, a golden light appeared around Nefertimon. Nefertimon's body slackened into motionlessness, and she dedigivolved into her Champion form, _leaving herself and the girls plummeting downward!_

"Kari! Yolei!" Daisuke was yelling from below.

The air stabbed coldness in her sore skin as Miyako fell. She had an unbreakable grip on Hikari's arm, and the pink-clad girl had the unconscious Gatomon in her other arm. Miyako's mind was blank, not fully realizing her crisis. Though, she was imploring that someone will help them. Miyako closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, but something stopped her. Something around her waist. She could feel a strong force of wind whistling around her waist, and she opened her eyes in surprise. A ring of red wind whirled around her waist, keeping her afloat. Hikari was also afloat with the red wind ring around her. The winds were the only thing to keep them from becoming smears on the ground.

"How . . .?" Miyako said, astonished.

Hikari seemed to know the reason. Holding her Gatomon protectively, she let go of Miyako's hand and pointed upward, a beaming smile on her face. "Sora!"

Miyako gazed upward as a shadow came over her. Soaring in front of the clouds, a gigantic dragon flapped her wings. She was a Cyborg dragon, from her looks. Her scales were wide and silvery all over, but her wings and tail were of a different color and of a different metal. Her wings were made of metal, dark blue, and her tail was also blue, splitting into three ends, each topping with a lethally sharp tip. A soft mane of blue surrounded her head, underneath a golden mask that covered her snout and face. Her eyes were dark blue, glaring out. On the mask, a white horn protruded out from her forehead. She wore golden armor, as well, covering her back and legs, lining with blue. Dark manacles encircled her wrists and ankles. 

Three girls sat on her back, holding on her mane. Kimika sat near the dragon's head, Sora behind, and Cleo at the end. Ruigumon was flying nearby, ready for battle. Sora was the one who was glowing red, her hand up. Miyako immediately knew that Sora was the one who kept the girls afloat, using her power.

The dragon, Silvedramon, the Mega of Iyumon, turned to Vampdevimon, who simply watched back, a smile playing on his lips. She glared and spread her metallic wings. Her voice was metallic and she shouted out, _"Silver Tempest!"_

A hissing sound was heard as her wings began to glow with silver light. Silver gusts wafted and stormed toward Vampdevimon. The Silver Tempest may be piercing in its edges, but it hardly scratched him. 

"He's too strong!" the faint voice of Cleo was heard.

Silvedramon tried again, increasing her attacks. Vampdevimon only laughed in scorn, as the attacks again did nothing.

Miyako watched on in despair. She couldn't believe it. Vampdevimon was absolutely powerful! Even more powerful than Black Wargreymon or even Myalomyotismon! It didn't seem normal. Vampdevimon can't be that vigorous. That was what Miyako feeling from him. Too much power. 

"Hey, need help?" a silky feminine voice questioned from behind.

Miyako and Hikari turned around and saw a new Mega Digimon floating before them. A humanoid, she was, a human dressed like a rose. She was clad in a dark red uniform that showed off her shoulders and belly, leathery and form fitting. Thigh-length black boots hugged her legs, and vines encircled her arms, her red-gloved hands clutching the ends. She wore a kind of cloak that illustrated as a rose's leaves. Outside, it was dark green, and the underneath was white-silver. The leaves that surrounded her neck were part of her cloak, and she wore a mask that characterized a rose's head, hiding her eyes and nose. Her lips were dark red, full and sensuous. Long fair hair was tied at the end with a rose-red ribbon. Miyako felt awkward and plain compared to the rose's beauty.

Rosemon, the Mega of Palmon, smiled at the girls and again said, "Do you need help, princesses?"

Hikari glanced down to Gatomon and whispered, "Gatomon is terribly hurt." Miyako looked at the cat. It was kind of odd that the cat Digimon had burns of the Dark Fire, but the girls didn't have any. Perhaps, she was a Digimon, and the attack had the effect only on her. Gatomon looked terribly worn out.

Rosemon gazed to Gatomon and a light frown smeared her face. Then she turned to the coming Shurimon and Hoshimon. She said, "Take them to safety. The rest are coming." With that, she flew toward Vampdevimon, ready.

"Come on, Yolei," Shurimon said. Miyako hesitated, worried of Rosemon, but then wrapped her arms around Shurimon's neck. Hoshimon silently took Hikari and Gatomon in his arms. Above, Sora withdrew her power, no longer needed.

Miyako twisted her head, so she can watch the battle, despite that she didn't like fighting. As if he sensed her concern and curiosity, Shurimon stopped and also watched. Hoshimon and Hikari also turned to observe. Miyako hoped that Rosemon's attacks would be effective against the Vampire. Vampdevimon directed his attention to the tiny Rose Digimon and looked a bit surprised. Still, he just sneered and waited as Rosemon tightened her left hand around the vine. With a smooth motion, Rosemon moved the vine just like a whip, thrashing the end toward Vampdevimon. 

_"Thorn Whip!"_ she shouted and a dark green energy formed into a slash went out. The green slash struck on Vampdevimon's chest, and his face very, so very slightly flinched. The flinch was suddenly replaced with another sneer as he shook his head. 

"You have to do better than that, Rosemon. _Dark Fire!"_

The black fire, this time in the form of a slash, soared toward Rosemon. Rosemon was ready, whipping her vine. The vine came in contact with the black fire with such force that it didn't destroy the attack; instead, it sent it back. Vampdevimon easily caught his attack without any flinch, grinning. With increased force, Vampdevimon threw it back. Rosemon didn't expect it and she gasped, frozen, as the black slash came for her. She screamed in horrible pain as the black slash struck, the red lightning licking her limbs.  She didn't dedigivolve, but the force was strong enough to thrust her backward. 

A flash of orange shot out from the forest below and came for her. Plated arms caught around her waist, cradling her gently. Miyako saw that it was Wargreymon, came for her rescue. Wargreymon looked down to Rosemon and worriedly asked, "Are you alright, Rosemon?"

Rosemon was deeply dazed, her body slackened for a moment. Miyako was again worried that the Dark Fire paralyzed her or something, but then Rosemon shook her head, holding it. She looked up to Wargreymon and smiled. "Thank you." She then got out his hold and both turned to face the Vampire, their faces scowling.

Seeing that the Vampire was busy, Shurimon and Hoshimon then drifted down to a wide clearing in the middle of the forest. Miyako looked down and saw Raidramon dashing over to them. Daisuke, Michael, and Willis were mounted on him, he big enough to support three or four children. Behind them, Kokoromon, Digmon, and Bravemon followed. She could see that they were eager to fight, their bodies prepared, but she knew that they wouldn't attack until their Digidestined let them.

Shurimon was putting his Digidestined down as Daisuke leaped off and hastened to Hikari. "What happened?" he demanded. His tawny eyes were darkened. 

"I don't know," Hikari said, embraced her Gatomon closer, her eyes misted. "She's badly hurt by the Dark Fire."

"How could it be possible?" Michael said from his mount. His face was disbelieved. "Are our Digimon too weak against him?"

Willis shook his head, pointing upward. "But they seem strong enough to fight him."

He was right, Miyako thought, as she turned to look at Silvedramon, Rosemon, and Wargreymon. They seemed unaffected of the Dark Fire. Suiginmon and Pegasusmon carefully stayed out of the way, sending their attacks from afar. Perhaps the Dark Fire did affect Armor Digimon, forcing them to lose their armor and dedigivolve. It also forced them to lose their energy, which explained Gatomon's loss of consciousness. The Mega Digimon may be just strong enough to prevent losing energy to the Dark Fire, but even that was not enough, she can see from Rosemon when she was attacked by it. She appeared dazed, which she quickly recovered from. The Mega Digimon were the only ones who can attack Vampdevimon from near.

Miyako lowered her gaze downward, deep in thought. The Armor Digimon _can_ fight, but they had to do what Suiginmon and Pegasusmon did, staying out of the way and attacking from a distance. All they had to do was avoid the Dark Fire. Simple. But what can the kids do? She then remembered the pixels. The Bug Digimon nearby must be alive somewhere. They might be injured and need their help . . .

The kids flinched as Silvedramon took the Dark Fire right on, but she managed to protect the girls on her back and resist the energy at the same time. Suiginmon then attacked with his 'Luck Thrash' attack and hastily sailed out of Vampdevimon's swipe.

"We can't fight, not like this," Hikari seemed to think the same to the other kids, they looking helpless.

Miyako shook her head, her voice confident. "No, Kari. There is something we can do." She turned to the kids. "There are injured Digimon out there, and they need our help. We should go and help them get away to safety."

Daisuke grinned. "You are right! We can't fight, but we can help!"

Miyako felt a twinge of pride in her chest. She gazed over to the Digimon, saying, "Alright, you must fight at your strongest, but avoid his Dark Fire. It might try and steal your energy, like it did to Gatomon."

Already eager, the Digimon nodded and dashed farther in the forest, toward the battle. The children watched them, and then turned to Miyako's words, "Let's take cover in the trees! We are vulnerable here."

The others followed her in the forest. Miyako knew that they weren't any safer in the trees than on the beach or anyplace else, for that Vampdevimon seemed to be everywhere. Even so, farther from him was better for their safety. For a while, they found few paths that led to wherever the Bug Digimon might be. The trees seemed to change into normal plants, only bigger. Miyako, Hikari, and Daisuke recognized the places as the area near the Giga Houses. Michael and Willis were marveled at the sights. After a moment wandering through giant grasses and flowers, they were stopped by voices. The voices seemed to call for the names of the Bug Digimon - Snimon, Kunemon, even Kuwagamon, and any Bug Digimon. They identified them as well.

"It's Tai and the others!" Hikari said, excited.

They followed the voices, also calling out. The voices came closer, and soon, they saw the older kids arriving. The older kids were mounted on three Mega Digimon, two brand-new and the third one familiar. Metalgarurumon soared in first, landing beside the younger kids. Yamato and Koushiro were mounted on his back. The two new Mega Digimon arrived behind along with the others, and the youngsters were awed.

Preciomon, the Mega of Gomamon, was a Water Dragon Digimon, as huge as Seadramon and twice the power. His scales were not the scales of Silvedramon, but of a smooth type, mingling upon each other to make the appearance of slick and shiny leather. His scales were ice-white, with blue markings on his back, neck, tail, and flippers. His ridges were dark orange, having the appearance of flames upon snow. His eyes were ice blue and bright, as he grinned down to the kids. He had the ability to fly, oddly enough. Jyou and Mimi were mounted on him.

Paemon, the Mega of Elecmon, was a Medieval Knight Digimon. Standing as tall as Wargreymon, he was clad in white and green armor, covering each inch of his body, except for his emerald eyes, which were glaring from within the darkness of his helm. No face was seen, no skin was seen, just his eyes that were the evidence of someone alive under the thick armor. He had the powerfulness to his body. He was supporting Frankie and Taichi on his shoulders carefully.

The older kids got off and Taichi ran to the youngsters, asking, "Is everybody alright?"

"Gatomon is hurt, but other, we are fine," Daisuke reported. At that, the older kids grimaced at the sight of the poor cat.

Miyako stepped forward, getting the leader's attention. "Tai, Vampdevimon is very strong for a Mega." Taichi watched her for a moment, and then nodded. Feeling that she needed to continue, she added, "It will take all of our Digimon's energy to stop him. Do you think your Digimon can handle him?" She then observed the power of the Mega Digimon. She hoped they could.

"Kid, we only have to try," Frankie said.

Taichi alertly gazed around. "I see you already sent your Digimon out there."

"We have to watch for his Dark Fire," Michael warned. "It sucks energy out."

"You hear that?" Taichi said, gazing at the Digimon. The Digimon nodded. "Alright, let's go!" The Mega Digimon saluted in enthusiasm and leaped up in the air for the battle, Paemon running along. The rustling became quiet, and Taichi turned to the group. "Now, we have to help the hurt Digimon before they get deleted."

"Yolei suggested the same," Willis mentioned, and Miyako suddenly blushed under the surprised gaze of Taichi.

"Is it so?" Taichi said, and Miyako looked up at his pleasured voice. He grinned at her, and she smiled back. Taichi nodded and, looking at the kids, gestured toward the grasses. Altogether, they ran in search for the Bug Digimon.

***

_"Metal Wolf Claw!"_ Missiles fired out from on Metalgarurumon's body. The missiles impacted on Vampdevimon's feet, where they were seen on the ground. The black feet were large, ugly, with talons, easily stretching ten feet or so. The missiles made no damage.

_"Crystal Blade!"_ A crystal sword formed in Paemon's gauntlet. He tightened his hands on it and drove it, forming a white light. Upon the feet, the sword scattered at the blow, leaving no harm.

_"Water Tail Blaster!"_ Preciomon's tail twisted around and smashed itself against the feet. Again, no damage.

The three Megas were shocked at the impossibility. Usually, when an Ultimate digivolved into a Mega, the attacks were at the most powerful, and the two new Megas, along with the older Metalgarurumon, should be able to at least seriously harm the skin. Somehow, Vampdevimon's skin was protected from fire and energy, or perhaps, he was just too strong. 

Vampdevimon felt the attacks, although, and he gazed downward, his angelic eyes blazing with disdain. "Pests," he simply hissed and raised a foot, aiming a kick toward them. Metalgarurumon ducked under as Preciomon soared out of the way. Unluckily, Paemon couldn't duck in time. The collision with the foot drove him back and he crashed into trees. He laid there, stunned, his green eyes blinking. Vampdevimon grinned and aimed another kick.

"No, you won't! _Crescent Blade!"_

Bravemon leaped out from the trees where he has heard the attacks. He held his crescent-bladed weapon ready and the blade glowed golden as his eyes. The blade struck upon the foot, knocking it out of the way. The coyote landed in front and glared upward at Vampdevimon, guarding with his axe-staff, his tail wagging in caution.

Vampdevimon just sneered, but paid no further attention. Looking upward, he then saw a huge fiery bird coming for him. She was all yellow, as bright and gold as the sun itself. Four golden wings supported her in flight, along with flowing tail feathers and few roped red feathers. One manacle was bound at her right limb, the impression of her Rookie form's manacle. Her mane was made of flames, and her eyes were bright red as she gazed calmly at Vampdevimon.

Phoenixmon, the Mega of Biyomon, seemed to grin and say in her fiery voice, "Do you know there is a bug behind you? He's pissed with you for hurting his bug friends." Her grin appeared sardonic but truthful.

Vampdevimon curled a corner of his lips in a scornful grimace. "You dare to fool me?"

_"Giga Blaster!"_

The dark purple energy ball with the silver lightning crackling around penetratingly thwacked right on Vampdevimon's back. The Vampire was totally staggered, his eyes widened at the pain burning on his back. He was shaken, turning to see the attacker. Herculeskabuterimon, the Mega of Tentomon, was one _big_ bug. Standing as tall as Vampdevimon, Herculeskabuterimon looked much like Kabuterimon, except that his exoskeleton was dark yellow. With four bulky arms topped with long talons, huge curled horns on his head, and razor-sharp wings that were widespread, Herculeskabuterimon may be as powerful as the Vampire. His body was so tense and enraged that the Vampire can feel his hidden eyes fixing a fuming glare on him. Vampdevimon stepped back once, surprised at the size of the beetle, hearing Phoenixmon's voice once again.

"Should've believed me." Phoenixmon was lightly laughing, her beak smirking. She then cast him a severe look and widened her wings. Red energy began to leap around her wings. She shouted out, _"Crimson Flare!" _The energy suddenly was on Vampdevimon's face, as quick as a blink, and he cowered a bit at the force.

He then growled, not the delighted growl, but a growl of disapproval. _"Dark Fire!"_ Phoenixmon was too close to avoid the attack, and she cried out at the _burning_, the force also pushing her away. She managed to gain her bearings, resisting the pain, so she won't touch any of the Armor Digimon. Unfortunately, Pegasusmon was just behind her, was prepared to attack once Phoenixmon got out of the way. Pegasusmon knew his danger, and he flapped his wings frantically, trying to escape. Too late. Phoenixmon crashed into Pegasusmon, Takeru and Iori holding on for dear life. Phoenixmon recovered from the dark fire, but it seemed to seek a new victim and it attacked on Pegasusmon. The winged horse screamed in excruciating agony as the boys gasped at the inner blazes on their skins. The horse glowed with the golden light, and he lost his energy, digivolving back into Patamon. Screams were heard as the boys plunged downward, one clutching his motionless Digimon.

"Gotcha!" Suiginmon mentioned as he glided under the boys. He then snapped his teeth in Takeru's shirt with such accuracy. Takeru fearfully embraced Patamon, his eyes tightly shut. Iori was caught in Ken's arms and the smallest boy was shaken, his hands grasping on the black-haired boy's shirt.

Vampdevimon was watching all this with a brutal amusement, and then turned to Herculeskabuterimon, ready for his battle.

Suiginmon hurriedly landed down on a clearing where Vampdevimon has burned during his 'fights' with the Bug Digimon. The other Digimon were waiting; they were the ones who didn't attack yet, waiting for the kids' safety, for they knew that the kids weren't safe surrounded by fighting Digimon. They were also studying Vampdevimon's moves, learning his attacks' damage and preparing to join in once the other Digimon were either too tired or hurt. Ken helped Iori get down and Suiginmon gently released Takeru to the ground. Takeru were paranoid, as Patamon responded nothing. The small Digimon was comatose, his body laying limp in his Digidestined's arms. Takeru's azure eyes misted over and he just caressed him closer.

"It's official," Digmon said with an unusual worried voice. He glanced up at the battle. "We Armor Digimon are too weak against Dark Fire."

Grunts were heard from Herculeskabuterimon and Vampdevimon as they locked arms, struggling against each other. The other Digimon stayed clear, tension thickening in the air. Silvedramon, fearing for the girls on her back, landed downward, flattening some tress. Ruigumon followed along. Kimika, Sora, and Cleo dismounted and ran over to the youngsters. They looked frightened and anxious.

Sora had the unsettled expression, her amber eyes almost molten gold. Her voice was tight as she warned, "We are defenseless here! We have to go back in the forest, where it's safe."

"I don't think so," Iori protested, recovered from his trauma. "There will be dangers if we go there."

Sora glanced over to him and said, "We will be hidden there."

"Go ahead," Ruigumon voiced. Her eyes were on the wrestling Bug and Vampire. Her wings were fluttering more rapidly than usually, she being excited to join in. The other Digimon had the same zeal, their eyes feverish with bloodlust. They wanted to fight. Ruigumon knew it. She turned to the kids, grinning. "We will handle it from here." With that, she took off in the air along with Silvedramon, Hoshimon, Shurimon, and Suiginmon as Raidramon, Digmon and Kokoromon pursued after. 

"Wait, the Dark Fire!" Takeru called out after them, his face full of dread. He was still shaken from the burns of the Dark Fire. The Digimon paid him no attention as they took positions around the struggling Digimon. The Flying Digimon were ready. The Land Digimon were ready. All the Digimon were there, their minds somehow working as one. They were ready to attack, ready to face the Vampire with the hope that they will defeat him. With a last strength, Herculeskabuterimon thrust Vampdevimon back, leaving the black Digimon vulnerable.

And they attacked.

_"Terra Force!"_

_"Water Tail Blaster!"_

_"Silver Tempest!"_

_"Thorn Whip!"_

_"Giga Blaster!"_

_"Metal Wolf Claw!"_

_"Crimson Flare!" _

_"Crystal Blade!"_

_"Heart Bullet!"_

_"Blue Thunder!"_

_"Double Stars!"_

_"Gold Rush!"_

_"Luck Thrash!"_

_"Crescent Blade!"_

_"Razor Storm!"_

_"White Tornado!"_

The great energies, fires, winds, forces, and lights were so dynamic that, as they collided on Vampdevimon at once, the sounds were unbelievable. The kids covered their ears from the sonic booms, but they couldn't turn away from the deadly yet beautiful explosions that filled the very sky. The smoke and hot ashes burst out, nearly flattening the kids and the nearby Digimon. They coughed out the smoke, sweeping the ashes out their faces. Vampdevimon stood there, _still stood there,_ stunned. His eyes were empty of energy; his face was slackened as if in unspeakable shock that he was defeated. Yet, his eyes' light returned back, and an outraged snarl appeared on his lips.  His eyes glowed briefly with a tinted blood-red glow. His body seemed to tighten up, and then suddenly, he roared out with stifled rage that again shook the kids with fright. His eyes were totally red and he spread his arms out, his fingers opening out.

_"Dark Flames!"_

Mists of dark fire launched out from his body like explosions, a ball of black-red flames expanding outward. It struck the Digimon with the same rage Vampdevimon has screamed out. Screeches and shrieks rumbled from the Digimon. The Mega Digimon barely resisted the burns, holding back their energy from being sucked out. Even Ruigumon was able to resist. The Armor Digimon had no luck. Golden lights appeared as they dedigivolved into their Rookie forms, unable to stand firm to the crushing Dark Flames. The children rushed to where the Rookies fell. The youngsters were very terrified, disbelieved that there was no way to defeat Vampdevimon. The older kids grimaced with grief and anger, knowing that they were now helpless.

Sora hoisted the weak Hawkmon in her arms and shouted, "It's outrageous! We have to get out of here!"

Vampdevimon, a bit tattered, grinned with cruelty as he saw what his new attack has done. Although, he was aware of the still alive Mega Digimon around him, nine Mega Digimon with an Ultimate, realizing the hazard. His eyes, back to the golden color, narrowed, and he said with mock worry, "It's just not fair that you are against poor me. Bad odds. So allow me." He folded his hands together.

"What's he doing?" Ruigumon demanded.

"Evening the odds," Silvedramon said knowingly.

_"Blood Rings!"_ Vampdevimon opened his hands and small bands, the color of blood red, leaped out. The Digimon tensed, some ready to attack, but the Blood Rings didn't go for them. Instead, they lowered themselves within the forest. The kids couldn't see any of the Blood Rings, the branches blocking their views. Soon, they heard an odd buzzing, some weird sound of a kind, pealing through the air. Flashes of yellow, green, and red appeared, too fast for the kids to see clearly what the flashes were. Though, Kimika was the one who can see them, for her Power was Light, and her eyes were highly developed in perception. She silently summoned a bit of her power to 'slow down' the blurs of the light, and she saw Bug Digimon flying by. Tentomons, Snimons, Yanmamons, and any Bug Digimon with wings buzzed strangely as they slowed down and floated nearby.

There was something strange about them. They appeared tense, but empty of any thought. Their eyes were dark red, glowing blankly. Their weapons, limbs, claws were ready, pointing toward the children and Mega Digimon. They wore something that was identical and familiar. The Blood Rings were bound around the Bug Digimon's necks. The Blood Rings were just like the Black Rings.

Cleo gasped, clutching the twin Terriermon and Lopmon close. Her jade eyes were wide as she sensed something in the Bug Digimon. "Their minds were gone!"

Vampdevimon grinned, crossing his arms, closing his eyes. "They are my doubles of the Black Rings, maybe better." Then he took a long gaze at the Megas and to the kids for a moment. There was the sadistic light in his face. "Now, my friends, let us play."

***

She had absolutely no energy to move. She couldn't wake up. Her body felt like it lost all feeling, all energy, even the awareness. She remembered very vaguely that she was surrounded by an outlandish heat that seemed to suck out all her energy. She could remember the bites of the black flames eating in her skin, in her bones, in her very soul. Her mind was like it just plunged right in darkness, into nothing, with just the tiniest awareness she has left. She struggled to get back, get back to awareness, to her existence.

 Very slowly, she felt sensation in her limbs, waking her up bit by bit. She sensed that she was in someone's arms, protectively and gently. She urged to find out where she was, and slowly, she gained just enough energy to open her eyes.

Gatomon groaned, her eyelids fluttering, struggling to clear her distorted vision. She looked up and saw her Digidestined's misted tan eyes gazing back. A hand appeared and rested on her head, and Hikari's voice whispered, "It's alright, Gatomon. Don't talk or anything. Please rest."

Gatomon wanted to close her eyes and slumber, but she had this feeling that she should be awake to see what was going on here. She took a long gaze around. She saw several Digidestined standing, kneeling, and sitting next to the Bug Digimon. She could see that the Bug Digimon were injured, probably from Vampdevimon's earlier attacks. The Digidestined's voices were soft and encouragingly. The Bug Digimon suffered their touches, disliking the warm flesh upon their cold exoskeletons. But they knew that the kids were the Digidestined coming for their help and they watched in faint awe as the children tended to their wounds. Behind and around, wrecks of the Giga Houses were seen, the yellow and white walls destroyed. The giant flowers were burned down; few still stood, their petals and leaves withered and blackened.

Hikari remarked that Gatomon was taking in her surroundings and let her do so. She didn't join with the Digidestined who tended to the Digimon, but stood nearby, watching the scene alone. She was so shocked when she and the rest of the children came in and saw the remains Vampdevimon had destroyed. There was no way that the Bug Digimon would survive under the wrecks. Several Bug Digimon were outside near the entrance, too weak to move on, and the Digidestined rushed over to help.

Hikari felt the controlled fury inside her chest just beginning to simmer. She knew she was angry with Vampdevimon for destroying the Bug Digimon just for his fun, but she then realized that there must be something more to Vampdevimon. She admitted that she was speechless that Vampdevimon was actually Demidevimon from four years ago, but . . . How did he come to be?  How was that Demidevimon died in the Real World and came back to life here? He didn't have the potential like Myotismon to come back. He was just a minion. There must be something more to this.

Hikari looked up at the coming footfalls of Willis. Willis was holding a Kunemon in his arms. She noticed that Willis had this strong strength that he 'gave' to the Kunemon. Kunemons were Virals, tough and mean, and yet, this weak Kunemon was sleeping restfully in his arms. The Kunemon obviously hated human touch, as it demanded Willis to stay away. But it was almost immediately comforted to Willis's soothing voice and gentle touches. His fingers were stroking lightly upon its black-striped yellow shell, luring the Kunemon into calming slumber.

Hikari was surprised to herself when she noticed it and felt the faintest twinge of spite. She and Willis were the same, willing to offer help to the helpless, but also, they were different in how they express. Hikari often hesitated to hurt the person any further. She wanted to help and at the same time, she feared to do something that might hurt it more. Willis went ahead and comforted anybody he can and offer his pain, as well. He showed a very precious care of life as he did to the Kunemon.

"How is he?" Hikari asked.

Willis looked down to the Kunemon and replied, "He will be fine. I don't know about the rest." With that, his cobalt gaze swept across the hurt Digimon.

Hikari remained silent, also watching.

Willis glanced sidelong and mental-spoke, _'How could you ever handle this?'_ He sounded like he was disbelieved to see such pain.

_'You get by, Willis. You get by,'_ was Hikari's simple response. Willis lightly grimaced at her head averting, but said nothing else. Gatomon sighed quietly, sensing her child's remorse.

The two Digiwalkers continued watching until Yamato's voice spoke, "Hey, guys, it's getting dark."

Gatomon glanced upward and was surprised to see that the sky was getting darker than before. The clouds were still there, blocking the low sun, and the rain had lessening into cool drizzles. Have they truly spent hours here? She didn't realize that the battle was taking that long. It was only mid-morning when they came here for the picnic and the journey to Destiny Island. The other kids were surprised, too, didn't notice the time until now.

"Time flies so fast," Daisuke clearly said, for even that the time between the Digiworld and the Real World was synchronized, the Digiworld's time felt so fast.

"Time will be a problem if we have to fight Vampdevimon for a while," Frankie said. Gatomon knew what he meant. The kids' families would be very worried about them all over again if they have to leave for a prolonged time. The children were quiet, each knowing their problems. Frankie crossed his arms and asked the question he was being bothered of. "By the way, how did he come to be like this?"

Hikari responded quietly, "He said he was Demidevimon."

The Old Kids turned to her, various frowns on their faces. Frankie was the only one of the Old Kids who was confused, for he never met Demidevimon. The New Kids were also puzzled, watching her.

"The Demidevimon from our time?" Koushiro said from his kneel by a Yanmamon. When the dusky-haired girl nodded, he grimaced, shaking his head in disbelief. "But he was deleted."

"That's what I thought so," Gatomon said, remembering her conversation with Vampdevimon.

"Who is Demidevimon?" Michael asked.

Mimi answered for him, "In our time, Demidevimon worked for Myotismon. He almost succeeded in whispering lies to us and separating us, forgetting each other." She closed her eyes, hugging herself. "He was a sly and dishonest Digimon."

Willis questioned, "What happened to him?"

"He was eaten by Venommyotismon," Yamato said. He then frowned, glancing over to Hikari and Gatomon. "He was long dead. How could he come back to life? Is it possible?"

Gatomon closed her eyes, her tail weakly twitching. "Perhaps. He said that anything could happen here. Perhaps we underestimated his power. He may be a small Rookie, but look at what he has became. There must be something behind him that helped him get back to life."

"The Final Evil?" Jyou spoke frankly. His dusky eyes remained on the dressings he made on a Snimon's arm, and he didn't see the surprised gazes on him. But the silence was understandable.

"He might be the Final Evil," Miyako mentioned. 

"Demidevimon?" Yamato said, doubtful. He shook his head in disagreement. "He might be the Final Evil. He might be not. There must be -"

Faint explosions rumbled in the air and the kids looked up. They couldn't see the far battle from under the branches, but they felt the ground slightly trembling and felt the warm waves coming straight from where the battle was. Then one kid looked away, toward the other side, where the destroyed Giga Houses laid.

"Danger," Frankie hissed as someone appeared from behind a broken wall.

The kids whirled around to see a small human girl, about ten years of age, walking around the wall to stand upon the broken stones. She wore a black shirt under a purple jumper. Her long hair was dark purple and in a ponytail, bouncing by her brisk walk. Her hands held a big white ball, all smooth and shiny, and she grinned girlishly at the tense Digidestined.

"Can I play, too?" she said, her voice oddly hissing.

Taichi calmly stood up from his kneel with a Snimon and glared over to the girl. His tan eyes were distrustful and full of fire. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The girl pouted perfectly. Her eyes were snakelike and golden, sparkling with hidden delight. "Oh, I have to introduce myself?" She shrugged and introduced herself. "I'm Verzyemon, your playmate."

The kids were taken back. The girl was so humanlike and her name was of the Digimon? She reminded them too much of Arukenimon and Mummymon, the only Digimon that were born of Human DNA and data. Would it mean that this girl, Verzyemon, was actually a Digimon with Human DNA?

"Are you a Digimon or a human?" Miyako demanded, walking over to stand by Taichi. 

Verzyemon gave her a hot glare. "A Digimon, of course. You compare me to yourself, human?" She then grinned, giggling. "I think I will have fun playing with you." She held up the ball, it half as the size of her. "See this? It's not a normal ball. It's . . . hmm, what you call it . . . oh, a bowling ball. I'm curious about how I can use it." She gazed at it briefly and shrugged. She dropped it, and the ball began to roll the minute it was on the ground. Slowly, it moved, picking up speed and size. Soon, it was gigantic and came into amazing speed.

Taichi, shielding her with his body, shoved Miyako behind. The fiery aura flared out from his back. Miyako stepped back from the sudden heat, but stayed close to the Master. Frankie had appeared at Taichi's side, also glowing with the bright snow-white aura. 

_"Passion of Fire!"_

_"Heart of Ice!"_

A beam of roaring white-hot fire launched out from Taichi's fists as long spikes of blue ice fired from Frankie's aura. As one, the beam and spikes blast right on the ball's surface. The winds formed from the attacks whistled loudly and Miyako kept a hand to shield her eyes. The ball seemed to pause before the force and, without a warning, exploded. White pieces burst outward, toward Verzyemon, the kids, and the Bug Digimon. Koushiro and Jyou quickly came in and formed their unbreakable domes of lightning and water. Jyou's water dome protected most of the kids who stayed out of the way and Koushiro's lightning dome covered the Digimon, and the boys, along with Miyako. The pieces were either burned out or bounced off. 

Verzyemon somewhat gestured and the pieces that came toward her paused in the air, then fell down. She then clapped her hands in delight. "It was fun! And guess what? Vampdevimon brought more playmates."

Behind her, numerous Bug Digimon appeared, buzzing with the strange sound that flinched the injured Digimon. There were rings of blood red binding around their necks. Their eyes were glowing red and blank.

"What are those around their necks?" Mimi said in fright.

Verzyemon rested a hand on a bound Tentomon and stroked its head. Koushiro flinched at the sight. She answered, "Blood Rings, the specialty of Vampdevimon. Think them as Black Rings, only . . . red."

"There are too many of them!" Willis said, stepping back, trying to soothe the scared Kunemon.

"The more, the merrier," Verzyemon said. And she changed. Before the children's wide eyes, the small girl was transformed into a snake-woman. From her waist up, she was a human, and below, she was a snake. Her scales were purple and black, shiny and beautiful, covered her muscular tail. Smaller scales also covered her torso, arms and neck. An elegant face was framed by long purple hair, grinning, showing off her small fangs. She was beautiful and lethal. 

She folded her hands in glee. "Let's play!"

At once, the Bug Digimon attacked. At the demands from the Old Kids, the New Kids quickly aided the unaffected Bug Digimon to safety as the Old Kids faced the Bug Digimon with their powers. Fire, Water, Ice, Lightning, Vines, Stones, Energy, Ghosts, and occasionally Death fought as the Old Kids tried to break the Rings and avoided from being attacked. The New Kids got to see their Protectors in battle and they were in awe and fright. Eventually, they noticed that the Old Kids were losing strength, using most of their energy for powers. Even though, they were trained to use most of their power with the least energy possible. Still, there was too many Digimon to fight.

"They can't keep this up any longer!" Michael noticed.

Gatomon glanced over to where Verzyemon waited. She didn't attack at all, just speculating in enjoyment. The cat quietly growled, wanting to join in the battle, but she knew that she was still weak. She knew that the kids needed help, but how?

"We have to find the rest!" Daisuke has said, looking at his friends.

Miyako shook her head so hard that her lavender hair flowed. "They are more likely to need our help as much as we do!"

Gatomon grimaced at that. They were completely at a loss. What can she do? She shifted her gaze for anything, and then her sapphire eyes landed on the silver tail ring. The tail ring seemed to twinkle knowingly. Gatomon blinked in realization. "Prophetmon . . ."

She could hear his voice, so like Wizardmon's voice. _'Whenever you need my help, Gatomon, use the ring and I will come.'_

She curled her tail up so she can touch on the silver tail ring. "I hope it works." Closing her eyes, she sought for any feeling of Prophetmon, speaking, _'Prophetmon, I need your help.'_

***

_"Terra Force!"_

_"Thorn Whip!"_

The orange energy ball and the green slash once again struck upon Vampdevimon, and just like the other attacks, they made little damage.

"Close!" Rosemon said, floating with Wargreymon. 

Vampdevimon glared to them. "You call yourself Mega? _Crimson Wing!" _The new attack, flapping red bats, much like Myotismon's Grisly Wing, came out from Vampdevimon's mouth like a bad breath. The bats were faster, bigger, and deadlier as they attacked Wargreymon and Rosemon at once. Wargreymon wildly swiped at them as Rosemon tried to hit them with her vine whip. The bats seemed eager to sink their poisonous fangs in Rosemon's flesh and even under Wargreymon's armor and the Megas little by little slackened at the poison rushing in their blood.

_"Crimson Flare!"_ The red fire leaped outward for the Megas. The red fire had the ability to destroy only the Virus Type Digimon, and Wargreymon and Rosemon were Vaccine and Data types. The fire easily demolished the red bats, which screamed in pain. Pixels burst out from within the fire, and the Megas were free.

Vampdevimon suddenly turned to Phoenixmon, who was nearby, supposedly hiding from him. His hand sharply flew, backhanding her on her body. In a yellow shadow, Phoenixmon smashed down into the forest. A weak groan escaped from her throat, but she didn't move.

The Bug Digimon were long gone, defeated by the powers of the Nature Children, and now they were watching the Digimon facing Vampdevimon, each with no energy to even hurt him a bit. Even that the Digimon were weakening Vampdevimon gradually, they themselves were weakening too fast. Already Ruigumon, Preciomon, Metalgarurumon, and now Phoenixmon were out of the battle. The kids were still shocked at how powerful Vampdevimon was and how easily he defeated them.

"I can't believe it," Ken was voicing everybody's words. His twilight eyes were on the Digimon, giving them hope and encouragement as much as he can. He looked over to his friends. "How can he beat Megas so easily?"

Cleo shook her head in disbelief, standing by her weak Digimon, her green eyes hard. "There must be something we missed."

"You said!" Sora suddenly was angry. Her eyes were now boiling gold, glaring over to the blonde. "Didn't your Prophetmon say anything about this?"

Cleo was startled at her sudden burst, cringing at the words. The other kids were taken aback at the sudden harshness of the chestnut-haired girl. Sora can be angry, but she hardly barked at anybody for any reason.

Sora grimaced, ignoring the shocked faces of the children and Ruigumon. "You may be a Digidestined, but you are very secretive for one. Why don't you make yourself useful and call Prophetmon for help?"

"Sora!" Kimika gasped.

"Or did you two plan this?"

Cleo was obviously hurt, the words stinging at her heart and pride. Her hands were in balls, tucked close to her chest, and her head was a bit lowered, her eyes on the ground, avoiding the golden rage. For a moment, the blonde was silent, paying no attention to the soothing hand of Ruigumon on her leg. Her body suddenly stiffened at what she was thinking and she raised her gaze to meet Sora's gaze. Her face was contorted with hurt, but with stubbornness. Her voice was low and wounded, "Very well. I have to prove to you that I'm a Digidestined." With that, she dashed past the kids toward Vampdevimon.

"Cleo!" Kimika called along with the Digidestined's voices, and then she whirled around to Sora, a stunned expression on her face. "Sora, I can't believe you! Why did you say that?"

Somehow, Sora's rage was lost, and she looked drained, gently hugging Hawkmon to herself. She looked almost disbelieved that she said that, but she seemed sincere. She looked back and said, "I'm sorry. I got angry and . . ." She looked up to see Cleo nearing up to Vampdevimon, and her eyes slightly narrowed. "But you have to admit it, Kim. She knows more than she tells us."

Kimika, Ken, Takeru, and Iori were just bemused, not understand what Sora meant. Then they were distracted by a quiet whisper of Ruigumon. Ruigumon was kneeling on the ground, trying to gather her energy. She was calling at Cleo to come back, but Cleo didn't hear. It was a strange sight, the kids noticed. Cleo was small, as small as Hikari, and yet she was tiny, so tiny compared to the giant mass of Vampdevimon. Vampdevimon somehow felt her coming and his golden eyes gazed downward until he picked up the sight of the small blonde. The other kids tensed, hiding behind the trees, for the trees were thin and widespread. Vampdevimon could see them, and they can't take the chance. 

Vampdevimon remarked the girl before him, looking brave and scared at the same time. He recognized her. In his rumbling voice, he asked, "You are the Watcher, I believe?"

Cleo made a brief nod, confronting the angelic gaze. She tried to make her voice loud and clear, but then her voice was shaking with fright. "Please, Vampdevimon, why are you doing this? The world is so weak that you can destroy it with one blow, but what will it accomplish for you?"

Vampdevimon grinned and chuckled softly. "I'm surprised and pleased that you have the courage to ask me that." His face turned solemn. "No, I'm not seeking to destroy."

The Watcher shrugged her hands, asking, "Then what is your ambition?"

Vampdevimon then smiled, a sudden change of his beastly face to a gentle, wondering appearance. He watched her with thoughtfulness, and then whispered in a quiet voice, "Do you really want to know, my little Watcher?" 

The way he said _'my little Watcher'_ caused Ruigumon to tense, fearing at the gentleness and curiosity. She inhaled a quiet hiss as she stood up, despite her injuries. Kimika held her for balance, and she shook her head at the sight of Cleo and Vampdevimon. "Either she knows what she is doing or she is a fool."

"Tell me, Vampdevimon," the Watcher demanded.

Vampdevimon slowly crouched, careful not to scare away the girl and kept on watching her with wonder. "It's not an ambition. It's a curiosity." He tilted his head like an interested puppy. "I don't see how could my mother have any interest in a fragile, pretty girl like you?"

" . . . Mother?" Cleo whispered in bewilderment.

Vampdevimon simply closed his fist. "If you want to know why, stand still and I will show you." He raised his fist and Cleo gasped.

"Cleo, run!" Ruigumon yelled as she rushed out from Kimika's protection to her Digidestined in a buzzing blur. She positioned herself in front of Cleo, glaring upward. But Vampdevimon only smirked and his gaze moved slightly upward to meet the tense gazes of the kids. Ruigumon had foolishly given out their positions! The Butterfly then realized that and groaned.

"Fooled ya," Vampdevimon said to her, then stood up, his eyes still on the kids. "So that's where you are hiding. Come out, don't be so shy. I only want to play."

Kimika stepped back, clutching the barely conscious Veemon in her arms. "Get ready to run," She hissed from the side of her mouth to the younger kids.

"But -" Iori protested, but Sora cut him off.

"Do it!"

"Wait!" The word came out from nowhere and yet everywhere. The kids could feel the might in the male voice that yelled out. Three of them almost recognized it, and they searched for the source. The Vampire and Megas also looked around, the voice catching their attention. From behind the trees, they could see two figures coming for them from north. One was on the ground, running toward the scene as the other flew beside. 

Soon, the details were clear. The running one was a male Digimon, but he looked too humanoid to have any Digimon appearance. He was clad in white clothing with the images of flames on his pants and sleeveless shirt. His long hair was fiery red with lavender strands, tied at the back of his neck. His eyes were bold emerald, stoic and commanding. The flying one was a female Digimon, lanky and tall, but bearing beauty. Her clothing was white with blue stars speckling on her shirt and skirt. Her hair was the exact opposite to the male: purple hair with red strands, long and flowing. Her emerald eyes were soft and gentle, unlike the male's.

"I can't believe it . . ." Sora said as her eyes widened.

"Who are they?" Ken asked, worried if they were more enemies.

"They are Akemimon and Amayamon, the Fate Digimon," Takeru answered.

Iori looked up to his DNA partner. "Why are they called as the Fate Digimon?"

"They can change destiny."

Amayamon, the female Digimon, slowed down into a stop as her brother paused in his tracks as well. She took in the size of Vampdevimon and her gentle smile changed into a knowing smirk. "We want to play, too."

The Vampire looked unconvinced, narrowing his gaze in disdain. "Who are you?"

"Names are not important at this moment," Akemimon said, crossing his arms, also smirking. "But if you want to play . . ."

"Play with us," Amayamon finished.

Vampdevimon made an echoing laugh and turned to them, looking upon them as insects, Ultimates against a Mega. "And how will you play?"

"Like this," Akemimon said. His hand opened and gestured in the air. A flash of white appeared and an image of a teardrop-shaped form glowed in front of him. The teardrop was huge and bright white in color with a black dot in the center. Its tip was pointing downward. He yelled out a word. _"Yang!"_

At the same time, Amayamon gestured in the air with an opened hand. A teardrop also appeared in front of her, colored night-black, along with a white dot in the center. Its tip was pointing upward. She yelled, _"Yin!"_

The teardrops came together, fitting perfectly into the Chinese symbol of a yin-yang. The yin-yang spun in place, into a blur of black and white, glowing with black and white lights. It suddenly shot toward Vampdevimon, so fast that he wasn't prepared for the attack coming for his face. The speed and light struck in his eyes and blinded him. Vampdevimon gasped and his hands covered up, his body weakening and shaking. It seemed that the attack sucked out most of his energy and left him weak and unable to attack back for a moment.

Amayamon turned to look directly to the kids, her face now full of worry. "You, get away in the forest!"

"But we can fight!" Silvedramon was the one who opposed. "You are only Ultimates." 

"Don't be fools!" Akemimon snarled, walking toward Cleo, not even looking at the silver dragon. "You are new Megas while we are ancient Ultimates. He's too much for you!" He stopped by Cleo, taking a long look down to her. Cleo ignored him, her head lowered, her hands again curled into balls. With a sigh, he finally gazed at the other children, who were coming over. He frowned and ordered, "Find the others and get out of the Digiworld! We will handle this."

"We can't trust you . . ." Sora whispered, but Akemimon heard her.

He gazed at her with surprised annoyance. "What's this, Seeker? In a time like this, you ask if you can trust us? You don't even trust yourself! You know you are no match from him!" He aimed a stiff finger toward the blinded Vampdevimon.

"Please go," Amayamon pleaded.

"They are right," Kimika said, nodding. She putted down Veemon, who felt better to stand steadily. She gazed at each of the Megas, some on the ground, others floating nearby, and to the Rookies, who were too exhausted to continue fight. She again nodded, saying, "We are no match for him, not now. Even you, Digimon." 

Even though that some of the Digimon disliked the idea of deserting, they acknowledged her words as wisdom. The larger Mega Digimon patiently waited, watching the Vampire in case he suddenly recovered as the children got on some of the Megas so the Megas can carry them quicker and sooner to the rest of the Digidestined. Preciomon let Takeru and Iori mount him, the boys keeping Patamon, Betamon, and Armadillomon on the white-scaled back. Sora and Ken sat upon Paemon's broad shoulders, Wormon and Hawkmon holding on. As the Digimon departed, Terriermon, Lopmon, and Veemon leaped upon the back of Metalgarurumon. The metal wolf didn't move, looking over to Kimika, waiting for her to mount, but she was gazing over to Cleo, who remained standing, not answering.

"Cleo, come on!" Kimika uttered, running over to her.

Cleo kept her head down, but she voiced bitterly, "Why should I? You heard Sora."

Kimika's usual soft face grimaced and she hissed out an aggravated breath. "Why won't you forget about her and get _the_ _hell_ out of here?" Cleo was startled as the black-haired girl grabbed on her arms and forced her to meet the brown-eyed gaze. Kimika would never touch anybody in harm, and yet she appeared upset and serious. Her voice was sharp as the Seer spoke, "This is not the time for any self-reproaching, Watcher. You want to be a Digidestined? _Be one!"_

Cleo was silent, her jade eyes bearing the wounded look. Then, slowly, she nodded. Kimika then gave her a heartening smile and her hands went gentle, giving her warm squeezes. Following Kimika, Cleo mounted upon Metalgarurumon, and the metal wolf took off in the air. 

Akemimon and Amayamon watched them go, and then silently turned to face the recovering Vampire.

***

_"Occult Rune!"_

Suddenly, from the far left of the kids, strange letters and symbols whistled through the air, in a dark twilight purple smoke of some kind. The kids tensed, bracing for the attack, but the attack didn't head for them, instead sharply struck Verzyemon. Somehow, the seeming weak attack had enough power to knock the snake-woman out cold. She collapsed upon the remains, laying still. The kids and the Bug Digimon were frozen, making no move toward Verzyemon, and turned to see who the attacker was.

"Who is there?" Jyou demanded.

The attacker stepped in view, and it was Prophetmon. He no longer was the tranquil Digimon. He had this desolate expression contorting his upper face, his azure eyes dark and clouded. He carried something new and familiar - a staff. It looked so much like Wizardmon's staff, except that the staff was colored blue and there was a blue crescent moon on the top with a golden tint. Prophetmon took a pitying look at the unconscious snake-woman and turned his gaze to the kids.

"What are you doing here?" Taichi voiced, distrustful.

Prophetmon closed both hands around the staff and replied, "Gatomon called for my help and, as I promised, I'm here to help."

Taichi somewhat went into an upset temper, pointing toward Verzyemon, his voice hot. "Do you know we are facing two dangerous Digimon? Did you predict this?"

_"Onii-chan!" _Hikari warned as some of the kids cringed at his words. Taichi heard and fell into a dark silence.

Prophetmon cast him and the rest a repentant glance. "I see that I'm not being trusted here."

Miyako strode near him and said, "Prophetmon, we do trust you." She looked over her shoulder to Taichi and some of the Old Kids, who supported the same harsh looks. "We don't . . . just express it."

Prophetmon seemed to see past her words. He smiled back with wryness. "Mistress, look at them. You have to understand that they suffered so much that it's difficult for them the trust anything that easily as you do." Miyako opened her mouth to disagree, but Prophetmon quickly closed his hand over hers, quieting her. "I know I'm your friend, but I also have to earn their trust."

Miyako was sincere as she gazed back. "Well, I do trust you and I ask you this: is there a way to stop Vampdevimon and Verzyemon?"

Prophetmon quietly nodded, glancing at the snake-woman. "Yes, there is, but you all are too weak to face them right now. They are equipped with so much power than normal Megas."

"You mean they are not normal Megas?" Mimi said.

"In a way," Prophetmon answered, then his face became stern. "You must go. Your Digimon are terribly weak and will get deleted if they are not to be taken to safety."

A groan came from Verzyemon, pulling their attention to her. She looked up dazedly, then her eyes widened as she saw Prophetmon. Prophetmon seemed to flinch under her gaze, and she sneered, rising from her position. "Well, well, look who is here." She then hissed, "Since when you got involved with Fate?"

"Fate is no longer significant," the Mystic Digimon responded.

"Ha!" Verzyemon scoffed, then gazed over to the children, who tensed up as if was bracing against any of her attacks. Though, her face looked discontented. "I see that you are trying to spoil my fun with the Digidestined."

"Where is the fun in torturing innocent children?"

"Innocent?" She cast him an astonished expression, then pulled back her head and cackled. The cackle was not like her girlish and delighted giggles. It was full of scornful amusement. "They are no innocents!" She gestured harshly toward the kids. "Look at them! See how calm they are in battle! They have no feelings!"

"You know it's wrong," Prophetmon snapped at her.

Verzyemon hissed back. "You shut up! _Black Kiss!_" A hand came to cover her mouth, as if was going to throw a kiss, and she did. Tiny black winds whistled out from her mouth. 

Clutching his moon-staff, Prophetmon scowled and yelled out, _"Twilight Arc!"_ He swung the staff like a baseball bat, and the crescent moon emblem glowed purple. A purple curve leaped out and blocked the black winds in midair. They dissolved into nothing, and Prophetmon, still grimaced bitterly, glaring at Verzyemon, who also scowled, her golden eyes flashing.

"Prophetmon is a Champion, but he is as strong as Verzyemon!" Koushiro said in amazement, voicing the words in the kids' minds. "What's going on?"

"Is he . . . not normal?" Willis added. At his words, Prophetmon visibly recoiled, his body shuddering. But he managed to regain his composure. Noticing this, Verzyemon grinned with eagerness, and with swift movements, she snaked away, her purple tail disappearing into the shadows of the trees and wrecks. Prophetmon seemed to break down with a relieved exhale and putted down his staff.

"She's getting away!" Michael said, stepping forward.

"Let her be," Prophetmon stopped him with a sharp gaze. "She's too strong for us."

Taichi slowly strolled over to him, his tan eyes meeting his azure eyes. His voice was calm, yet cautious, "How does she know your name? Are you both allies?"

For a brief moment, a hurt expression crossed his face, but Prophetmon then became calm. Strangely, that his emotions came so quick, calm for a moment, and the next, he appeared upset or sad. The Prophet responded quietly, "There are much more in me than you ever want to know, but I can tell you that I'm always on your side." He then looked up to Taichi, almost looking like he was pleading or simply offering his friendship. Taichi didn't say or do anything, just watching back with uncertainty on his face.

A gigantic shadow passed over them, and they looked up, almost in start. Herculeskabuterimon was above, his enormous wings droning. Footsteps were perceived as the children and the few Bug Digimon left looked over to where they were. They saw, one by one, Megas showing up with the kids on their backs or shoulders. Silvedramon and Phoenixmon joined Herculeskabuterimon, drifting. Preciomon came in, carrying Iori, Takeru, Patamon, Betamon, and Armadillomon, followed by Paemon with Sora, Ken, Hawkmon, and Wormon on his shoulders. Wargreymon, Rosemon, and Ruigumon were behind, and Lastly, Metalgarurumon trailed along, with Kimika, Cleo, Veemon, Terriermon and Lopmon on his back.

The children and Digimon were thrilled to see each other well and safe, running to each other. The New Kids took their Digimon and fretted over them, worrying about their energy, what were left of, and the Old Kids were pleased with their Megas, they able to resist the power of Vampdevimon.

Cleo paid no attention to them, noticing the silent Prophetmon at last. She leaped off the metal wolf and dashed over to him. Prophetmon glanced up to her and was concerned of the bitter distress on her face. "My Watcher, you appear troubled."

"Never mind that," Cleo bluntly said. She eyed him with carefulness, saying, "Prophetmon, what should we do about Vampdevimon? He's too powerful."

"Nothing for now."

Cleo's eyes were wide with disbelief as she stared. Prophetmon remained still, merely watching back. She slowly shook her head. "What . . . ? But you told us that we would stop him! You said so!"

"You misheard me," Prophetmon replied. "I mentioned that one can stop the Final Evil with a weapon. I never said what you said. Besides, Vampdevimon is not the Final Evil."

The rest of the group have been listening in Cleo's and Prophetmon's conversation and was bewildered at that. "Then who is the Final Evil?" Mimi questioned.

"The Watcher knows." Prophetmon kept his bold eyes on Cleo.

"No, I don't know!" Cleo suddenly burst. Her eyes were full of tears, her hands curling into shaking balls. "I know nothing, but pieces of dreams, memories! That's all, broken pictures!" Koushiro was at her side, holding her shoulders, but she jerked out of his comforting hands. "Don't touch me!" She gazed through tears to Prophetmon. "Why are you talking in riddles, Prophetmon?"

The Prophet only gazed back with great melancholy.

Koushiro finally got to comfort his girlfriend, but anguish was still in her face as she stared away. The other kids were silent, worried and concerned. 

"What are you still doing here, children?!" Amayamon's voice came out as she flew in, followed by her brother. Her eyes were wide with alarm. "Vampdevimon is recovered and is coming to stop you all!"

"Leave the Digiworld right away!" Akemimon demanded, repeatedly glancing over his shoulders to where they came from.

The children who had seen Vampdevimon attacked by the Fate Digimon gasped as the others were puzzled. Then they tensed up and braced as horrible roars seemed to blast through their bodies and quaking footsteps shaking the very ground.

"Go now," Prophetmon ordered, now sounding troubled. "Before it's too late."

_"No."_ The word rumbled in the air as a bell, and the kids somehow froze in motion as they saw Vampdevimon coming in sight. Verzyemon was sitting on his shoulder, her tail curling around the arm, and was grinning. Vampdevimon's eyes were hotly glowing with a tint of red. He was mad. Really mad. Wrathful. He pointed a shaking finger toward the group, hissing, "You stay. I'm not finished with you." Suddenly, his body was covered with a black-red glow, and the kids were too stunned to hide, much less move. 

_"Veil of the Night!"_

Everything was in chaos. The boom from the attack was so deafeningly that the kids went deaf. Waves after waves, it smoothly came, the energy seeming so black that it shimmered a beautiful night blue. The attack was just simple in appearances, looking like blue waters waving from Vampdevimon. And yet, the simple attack easily drained the energy, the life itself from the Megas, the Rookies, and the Digidestined. The force easily pushed them down like saplings. They couldn't even raise their heads, too drained out dry to move. The attack was also a fire of some kind, blazing on the trees, the blue flames eating on the bark and insides. The tress were first flattened down and then burned into ashes. The Digidestined and the Digimon felt nothing, except for an increasing fatigue in their bodies. With one last hiss, the attack vanished.

One eye opened and Cleo quietly groaned, turning over to her stomach. She wondered how come she was able to move from the attack, her body limp and motionless. Yet, she can, and she slowly stared around. The Megas were no longer Megas, now back in their Rookie forms, most of them unconscious. The Digidestined were conscious, not as affected as the Digimon, but also terribly weak and groaning. She turned her head to the other side and was surprised to see something golden laying there. 

It was a golden stone. A luminous stone. The stone was small, could fit perfectly on the center of her palm. It was all smooth and shiny, like gold, and yet, it was clear that it was only a simple stone. A cord was tied through a hole drilled in the center, obviously meant for wearing around the neck. The dim light was pulsating gently, the illumination tinting Cleo's pale skin with an amber color. She remembered where she saw it before. It was around Prophetmon's neck. His stone, he has said, his cherished treasure.

Slowly, her hand closed over the stone. It was warm, very warm and comforting. To her surprise, the stone bestowed energy, the warmth moving through her body. She sat up, awed at the beauty of the stone. Then she heard a groan nearby. Looking up, she saw Prophetmon standing before Vampdevimon. Prophetmon was charred and he didn't have the energy to stand stably. Yet, he was standing, and his eyes glared hotly at the grinning Vampdevimon.

His voice was strained with pain, but he boldly said, almost half to himself, "I cannot . . . allow this . . . to happen . . . _again!_"

The Watcher gasped as the stone suddenly became hot, almost so hot that she couldn't hold on. The stone seemed to be glued to her hands, refusing to let go. She whimpered at the pain, as the stone grew brighter in light, the golden glow coloring everything near. She saw that Prophetmon was also glowing with the golden light. Then she was astonished that she realized that he was digivolving.

_'Prophetmon, digivolve into . . . Enjerumon!'_

Where Prophetmon once stood, there floated an angel. The angel was a strange kind, an angel with bat wings. His wings were wide and leathery, but they were snow-white in color. Much like Exveemon's wings, only bigger and wider. His skin was dark brown as an African's skin, shiny and so dark. His clothing was just like the clothing of an Angemon. His robe was dark green, torn and draped around his legs. His armor was silver, covering his chest, shoulders, and wrists. A helm covered his head and eyes, allowing his long black hair to be free, curling around his shoulders and back. A sword was in his right hand, silver with digicode written on the blade. The bat-winged angel faced the surprised Vampdevimon, his hand grasping the hilt readily.

Enjerumon's voice was full of sorrow and rage mixed, so it was hard to tell if he was sad or mad. "I was hoping that I won't have to do this, but justice must be served."

"Vampdevimon!" Verzyemon hissed, clutching on his blonde hair. "Let's get out of here!"

_"Sword of Truth!"_ Enjerumon yelled, speeding toward the Vampire. His sword glowed green and he swung it for Vampdevimon. Vampdevimon howled as the green sword slashed across his chest diagonally, actually leaving a bleeding gash upon his black skin. Vampdevimon growled deeply, then aimed a swipe toward Enjerumon. Enjerumon easily dodged out of the way. That was what Vampdevimon wanted. He leaped backward and grinned knowingly.

He spoke, "Mother, now it's your turn." There, he simply disappeared with Verzyemon out of sight, leaving an enraged Enjerumon and a worried Cleo.

***

Daematermon raised her head up at Vampdevimon's voice. A faint smile played on her lips. "Thank you, son." Her hidden eyes looked down to the circles of the dolls. The dolls were ready, facing each other, toward the sitting Watcher Doll in the center. A white finger came down to touch the tiny chin, and then touched the head. Again, the smile appeared.

"Dark Nostalgia." The smile again appeared, this time with wistfulness. "Go back to the beginning."

***

Enjerumon floated down to the ground beside Cleo, defeated. The moment he landed, the golden light enveloped him, and he dedigivolved back into Prophetmon. The small Wizard heavily swayed on his feet and collapsed into Cleo's arms. The golden stone fell out her hands and bounced away for a moment until it laid there, silently, innocently. Prophetmon's eyes were closed, his face grey with fatigue.

Forgetting about the stone, Cleo gently shook him. "Prophetmon? Can you hear me?"

Prophetmon's eyes opened, met her gaze for a moment, and then lowered down to the stone. Agony and guilt passed across his face. His voice was weak as he whispered, "I broke my promise."

"What promise?" Cleo asked, but Prophetmon answered none, closing his eyes. At the very moment, she felt something . . . A touch . . . on her chin, then on her head . . . A motherly touch . . . She suddenly remembered, and somewhere inside her, a memory appeared. A longing touch full of love stroke her chin and head . . . Tears appeared in her eyes and Cleo didn't understand why . . .

_Disorder. Chaos. Madness._ Cleo looked up in alarm, but saw nothing. "What's happening?" She then saw a white light flashing in the sky, growing brighter and brighter. She sensed disorder from it. Something was happening.

Prophetmon opened his eyes toward the light. "No . . ." he whispered. "Not now . . ."

The white light flared for a moment, filling visions with whiteness, then nothing. Just nothing. She felt nothing. They felt nothing. Except for the motherly touches as she guided them to slumber.

And Prophetmon wept.

To be continued!


	7. Sewing the Threads of Fate

Children of the Armor:

Part Seven: Sewing the Threads of Fate

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

The foliage was silent, except for an occasional rusting of a small Digimon sneaking through or a swaying of the branches and leaves by a breeze. It was natural, of course, as nature was. But, sometimes, Nature can be unnatural, such as the coming of the multicolored butterflies.

Many tiny butterflies, each a different color, fluttered through the foliage. They were glowing with a beautiful white light, and it was strange since no butterfly had the ability to glow with that kind of light. Also, the butterflies were not natural, for they seemed to take no notice of the trunks and leaves. If you watch them carefully, you would notice that some butterflies flew right through the trees! Even they passed through branches and leaves, and the foliage did not even stir at their movements. As if the butterflies were not real.

Or perhaps they were, and the plants were not real.

The butterflies slowed down to a small clearing and settled down, many wings unfolding and folding in flashes of colors. One by one, they glowed brighter until they were like firelight. They appeared to mass together, standing on one another, until they appeared as a figure of a tall man. The butterflies then mingled as one, the colors changing to bright white, and a human male stood in place.

He was all white, not glowing, but in clothing of perfect, stainless white - an ankle-length trench coat, pants, and boots. The only differences were his pale skin of beige and his hair that came down to his shoulders like black rain.

He walked again through the foliage; this time, he was solid, pushing back branches. His mind was on one object that he was searching for. He didn't need to _know_ where; the object was already his when he became one with the Digiworld. A faint smile played on his lips, a rare smile that he learned to show his happiness. His dark black eyes were calm in mood, showing only patience. He already learned that kind of patience a long time ago, but now that he was 'immortal' in a way, he had all the time to be patient.

He soon noticed that the surroundings appeared different. The leaves were withered, turned brown, and the dead grasses beneath his boots crushed into powder. The soil was so dry that the slight breeze lifted dust into the air, turning the air into a sandy cloud. The trees themselves were black, burned by the attack of the Vampire. He grimaced with sadness as he gazed at the sick land. He did his best as he could, but not even his energy could completely restore the Digiworld. He was worried that he would not keep his pledge, but his intimate and soul mate told him not to worry; the Digidestined and Digimon were doing their best to save the worlds, too.

He still feared that the living darkness was too strong for them, but he just had to keep on hoping.

A flash of something shiny capture his gaze, and he went there. He knelt down, and he plucked the object out from its half-buried dirty grave. Around his fingers, a brass necklace winked in the sunlight, cool to the touch, and dangling from it, there was a hexagonal-shaped pendent, also made in brass. Inside the dirty glass screen, he identified a jet-black crest, as dark as polished obsidian, and a skull-crossbones symbol lined in white. Skull-crossbones were often the symbol of poison, suffering, and death. He knew what pendent was.

The Crest of Silence, the only wild crest that cannot be tamed by a Human, Digimon, or even an Unmon.

Well, except for one.

He closed his fingers around the crest and closed his eyes, concentrating. Rays of black began to shine between his fingers, seeming to struggle against the man's strength. He was tolerant, pushing himself to tame the crest. Slowly, the black rays changed into pure white beams, almost as bright as his clothes.

Smiling with pleasure, he looked down to a new crest, tamed by his energy and destiny. He knew it can be tamed because no one knew that the crest was actually his. He wasn't Human, Digimon or even an Unmon, which explained why he was able to tame it. The crest was in the color of simple white, cleansed of its darkness and wildness, and the symbol was also changed. The symbol was now a simple perfect circle with a bolt-shaped crack, splitting the circle in half diagonally.

The Crest of Faith.

Oikawa Yukio, the Martyr of Faith, made a content smile as he donned on the necklace. The crest seemed to glow on its own, but perhaps, it was only a trick of light. He felt complete, and he was ready to aid the Digidestined whenever they need help. Giving out a burst of delighted laughter, for Laughter was his Heart-Name, Oikawa raised his arms, and in a flash of a wink, he burst into fluttering, multicolored butterflies, flying away up in the sky.

***

When she woke, she found that she had absolutely no energy to move her limbs. Palmon found herself laying on her stomach, laying limply, and even though she was aware of herself, she couldn't move. She stared in the darkness, wondering what had happened. All she could remember was . . . the battle! She remembered that blue-black attack, 'Veil of the Night' and the attack draining her energy dry. It came out all of a sudden and she couldn't remember anything after that because she was blacked out. She wondered how long she was unconscious. 

Slowly, she felt energy coming back in her limbs, not very much, and she languidly sat up. She felt dazed for a moment, sitting in the pitch blackness, and she felt very alone. She decided to call out, "Hello . . . ? Is anybody out here?"

No one answered in the darkness and Palmon was worried. Where was she? What happened to her?

She heard a voice. A familiar voice from across and a bit from her left. "Palmon?"

Her heart hammered with relief at Agumon's voice. "Agumon! Oh, I thought I was all alone."

"Are you alright?" the dino was sounding utterly concerned.

"Yes, I think so . . ." she tried to see in the darkness, but the blackness was too dark. She couldn't even see herself. "Where are we?"

Agumon grunted with unhappiness. "I woke earlier, and I searched around to see any light. I couldn't even use my fire; I'm too tired . . . I think we are in cages."

"Cages?" Palmon crawled forward, really slow in movements. It seemed that she had just enough energy to talk and move to one place before getting heavily weary. She moved far enough, she thought, and felt around with her hands. She felt something cool and smooth. It was a thin vertical bar, and she felt a few more. "I'm in a cage, too . . . What happened?"

A new voice muttered from her far right, sounding very weary, "I believe that we'd been diginapped."

"Tentomon?" she looked to her right, reaching out. More bars blocked her. "Are you okay? You sound tired."

Tentomon replied with a light growl in his throat, unlikely for the passive bug, "That's because I'm exhausted, drained of my energy. I'm so tired that I couldn't even flap my wings."

"We all are tired, too," Agumon said. "It's strange, though. I'm not feeling hungry, just tired. The attack just drained us, I believe."

Palmon agreed. She knew that whenever they lose energy, they tend to get hungry and need to eat to regain energy. She didn't feel any hungry, either. Just exhausted. Then she heard a grunting from across and at her right. Gomamon. 

"Aw, man . . ." the seal was heard muttering to himself. "I couldn't keep my eyelids open. Would anybody please explain what happened?"

"We honestly don't know," Palmon answered, then turned to Agumon, wherever she thought he was. "Agumon, if four of us are here, would the rest be here, too?"

"It won't be any surprise if it's true. Try feeling around the cages."

She went to her left, trying to find the bars. As she did so, she heard Tentomon calling, "Hey, I think I found Gabumon!" It sounded like he was shaking something. "Wake up, Gabumon!"

Gabumon responded with a warning growl, "Let go of my horn!" A faint rustling of the air, and the wolf muttered, "You are giving me headaches shaking my horn."

"Sorry, Gabumon."

"Gabumon, can you see us?" Agumon asked. Gabumon, Biyomon and Tentomon had the keenest sight among the Digimon, Gabumon the best.

There was silence, and then the wolf said, "I can't see anything. It's too dark."

As Gabumon asked where he was, Palmon found the bars and reached between the bars, feeling around. She couldn't feel anything, and then she stopped, feeling something weakly touching her hands. She waited, and the hands came to hold on it as if her hands were the only things that kept the hands aware. She felt the hands; they were soft and feathery.

"Biyomon?" Palmon whispered. "Are you alright?"

She heard her voice from near the ground, very feeble in tone. "I don't know . . . I'm so tired."

Palmon wished the bars were gone so she could comfort her. But she only could do so by patting the wing-hands. "It will be alright, I promise."

She continued hearing new voices responding with groans of tiredness: Elecmon and Iyumon. Iyumon, being the guarded one, growled and was heard gnawing on the bars. But she stopped and remained silent, and Palmon knew that she was scrutinizing for a way out. Elecmon was surprised, not had been in situations like this.

"What the . . . ?" he said. "Man . . . I should've known that you're always getting in sticky situations like this."

"Hush!" Iyumon cut him off. Palmon could feel the tension in her voice. "I think I hear someone else in here."

"Me, too . . ." Gomamon was suddenly serious. 

Palmon strained to hear anything, but she heard nothing except for her and Biyomon's breathing. She couldn't even hear the other's soft breathing, being too far.

Agumon said, "Look, I know we're tired, but we have to break through the cages."

"You all are too weak to do anything."

The voice was amused, and it startled the Digimon. It was hard to forget the voice. The voice belonged to the monster that they fought recently.

"Vampdevimon . . . " Iyumon growled.

"But how . . . ?" Biyomon whispered.

"Oh, hush," Vampdevimon said, disgusted. "You sicken me with your concerns and questions."

Palmon was puzzled. Somehow, Vampdevimon sounded . . . smaller. His voice wasn't booming and loud as he was, but sounding calm and steady. He sure sounded small, as if he was in a smaller body. Gabumon noticed it, too, eyes finally adapted to the darkness.

"You aren't Vampdevimon," the wolf said with doubt. "You look too human."

She could hear Vampdevimon grinning. "Ah, I see that you noticed my human form."

"Human form?" Tentomon repeated.

"I was gifted with Human DNA, just like Arukenimon, Mummymon, and my little sister, Verzyemon."

"What?!" Agumon was disbelieved as well as the others.

"All shall be revealed in time. Now, before we drift into another meaningless conversation, my mother wants you to stay out of her search for the crest, and I was requested to have the plans done on you."

Mother? Palmon's bewilderment increased. What was the meaning of this? Who was this 'his mother'? Digimon do not have parents. They was born from Digieggs and lived on their own ever since they were born. They could choose a close friend and call it a sister or brother, but not a 'mother' or a 'father'. Who was the mother?

And what was this about a crest?

She heard Elecmon growling. He sounded outraged and he snarled at the hidden Digimon, "What in the blasted Digiworld do you want with us? If you ever dare to harm any of us, I swear you will find my teeth in your human neck!"

There was frightened silence, then Vampdevimon spoke, deathly calm and disappointed, "You shouldn't have threatened me, Elecmon. Allow me to give you the first gift."

Suddenly, there was a sound like static, loud and screeching, and she heard Elecmon gasping as in shock. She couldn't see anything in the darkness, but she could feel his fear as he was choked at something. Somehow, she could feel something change in the air, a change of data, like rebooting. It came from Elecmon's direction, and she grew frightened. Then silence. She heard a quiet thud as Elecmon collapsed to the floor, probably unconscious.

"What did you do to him?!" the dino demanded.

"He deserved it, threatening me," Vampdevimon simply responded. "Actually, what I did to him was not of my doing, but of his doing. I simply gave him a new body."

Then, at a hidden gesture, the light came in, very dim, but enough for the Digimon to see the Vampire sitting before him. His appearance was still of the Digital Vampdevimon, although more human. His skin was thick and the blackest brown shade with the faintest of grease, and his black hair was short and coarse. His clothing were neat but worn, a heavy trench coat and pants underneath, both colored dark red, along with black gloves and boots. His face was beastly and somewhat rugged; he would look handsome if he didn't have his fangs and glowing golden eyes.

The Digimon was shocked, staring at the Vampire with disbelief. Palmon took a quick gaze to Elecmon where he fell and a gasp escaped from her lips. To her incredulity, Elecmon was like Vampdevimon; he was in a human body. The unconscious Elecmon was a long-limbed human boy, appearing 14 or 15 years old, clad in red and blue clothing that characterized his fur. His pants were dark red with blue stripes, with a small bandanna tied around his left knee. He wore an opened vest, dark red with blue stripes. On his reddish-brown skin, there were blue stripes, as well. His hair was short, dark blue and spiked.

_'Oh, no! Not again!'_ Palmon was terrified.

Vampdevimon laughed and swiped a hand in the air. Palmon gasped in light pain as she saw her own body in static. She felt her data stretching and ripping apart and she groaned in pain. The other Digimon experienced the same, bending over, struggling against the static and changes.

Before her wide eyes, Palmon watched as her vine hands transformed into human hands, delicate and soft. Her green skin was now beige-pale with the faintest jade color, very soft to the touch. Her body was clad in green clothing, a pale green tank top and ankle-length skirt, along with vine-like sleeves bound around her forearms. Her head was now covered with hair, soft and pale green, curling down to her waist, with the pink petals over her head like a cap. 

The static took out almost all her energy in transformation, and Palmon fought against the exhaustion. She fell into a dreamless slumber; her last thoughts were of dread and helplessness.

***

Her emerald eyes darted that way and other way as she searched. Amayamon can't believe it. How did that the Digidestined vanish in thin air? They were gone, completely gone. Right after the battle. She remembered that she lost conscious after Vampdevimon sent his strongest attack, 'Veil of the Night.' She could feel her energy being sucked out, leaving her heavily sleepy. She didn't know how long she was unconscious, but then when she woke up, she was speechless at what she saw. She was alone. The only other Digimon left were Akemimon and Prophetmon. The Digidestined and the Destined Digimon were gone. The three Digimon were alone in a field of charred trees. Even the Bug Digimon were gone, possibly deleted.

Amayamon can feel presences of every Digimon, one of her Fate powers, keeping track of them, and she sensed with her mind that the kids and Digimon didn't leave the Digiworld. They were still here, somewhere. But she cannot feel them, cannot find their whereabouts. Prophetmon, at that point, became frightened. He mentioned that the Digidestined must be found and taken to safety before Daematermon found them. Amayamon had never seen Prophetmon so worried like that. It was like Prophetmon would do anything to keep the Digidestined ready for the Final Battle and even so, it seemed that he didn't want the Final Evil to find them. Amayamon wondered if Prophetmon had ever told them about Daematermon.

Amayamon and Akemimon offered to search for the Digidestined while Prophetmon went out for more help. For a few hours, Amayamon and Akemimon searched without any success. It was obvious that the Digidestined might be hidden or taken away to somewhere far so that they cannot be found. She knew that she was searching for only hours, but it felt like years. She was concerned, too, that the Digidestined might be injured or even dead. What happened to them? How did they disappear? She wanted to know the answer. 

Amayamon slowed down into a floating stop, her skirt settling around her legs. She drifted above the forest, noticing a familiar town settled among the thick trees. Digi Chinatown. It was hundreds of miles away from the battle scene and the Fate Digimon were able to cover up miles in a few minutes with a blink of the eye. She knew she had powers like that, and she rarely used them unless it was necessary. Now, this time, she used her powers to find the Digidestined, wherever they were.

She saw her brother walking out from Digi Chinatown. He looked stoic, but his body was stiff. "Brother!" She drifted down to land in front of him. Her face held hope. "Have you found them?"

Akemimon's face slowly contorted into agitation. His voice was shaking. "No . . ." He suddenly grunted in frustration as one of his large fists clouted in one of the entrance walls. Amayamon slightly jumped at that. She knew he tended to be stoic and cold, but his protection for the Digidestined was noticeable. "It's useless," he said, his head shaking. "The children are gone and we can't find them. No mater how long we search, time is running out."

Amayamon sighed and rested a hand on his bulky arm. "Brother, we can't give up . . ."

Akemimon's emerald gaze met her emerald gaze. "I know we can't, but we can't help them until we find them. I know that Fate will eventually lead us to them, but I doubt we have the time and patience." He looked down to his fists. "Only if we can do something . . ."

Amayamon also bowed her head, trying to think of something possible for them to help. _'Those poor children,' _she thought. _'They might wish to be home by now, to be back with their families. I wonder what is like to be a family. I know that Akemimon and I are twins because we were born from the same Digiegg, but it's different from the human families. They have a mother and a father. We the Digimon don't. I wonder how they feel when they know that their children couldn't come back. I wonder how the families feel about that. Would they have to worry so much that their children couldn't come home?'_

She watched as Akemimon sat down on a bench, his eyes closed, seeming to think. _'Poor families. They are so worried . . . Only if we can help and tell them not to worry. Their children will be fine. But it's a lie. The children are not safe when they are here.  They know they have to face the Final Evil . . . I wish we can do something! But what? How can we give them more time so they can be prepared? Tell the families not to worry about their kids? In the past, they never knew about their children going to the Digiworld because the time there was not synchronized . . .'_

Amayamon raised her head in realization. _'That's it . . . Time. The time can be changed . . . It would give the children more time and help the families being not aware of the dangers . . . It's very perilous, but this is the only thing we can do to help at this moment . . .'_

"Akemimon," she whispered, turning to him. "We can do something. We have the power to control time."

Akemimon's eyes widened in alarm, staring at her. "What?"

"Listen to me. We can help the children with this. We can speed up our time so the Real World's time seems to slow down. Their families will not have to worry about them. That way, the children would have much more time to defeat the Final Evil."

The Male was silent, his gaze holding incredulity, and then he slowly shook his head. "Sister . . . are you aware of the very risks by doing this?"

"Yes, but - "

"Then you do know it's absolutely absurd to achieve what you suggested!"

"Oh, shut up, Akemimon!" Amayamon snapped. Her brother was startled, expressing astonishment. Amayamon clenched her fists, glowering. "I want to help! I don't want to feel so powerless! I want to do something and this is it! By doing this, we can give the children more time! Life is at the sake!"

Her anger draining, Amayamon hugged herself as Akemimon stood up to her. She heard him whispering her name, and then his arms came around her, pulling her to him. She felt his warmth and was grateful. She listened as he spoke gently, "I understand, Sister. I want to help, too . . ." He then raised her chin so he could look in her face. She could see his brotherly love for her. "I owe them my life for freeing you from Daematermon. I'm grateful. Yes, I do want to help. But . . ." His lips frowned. "You must know that we are not as strong as we were before Myalomyotismon's darkness weakened us and the world. I don't know if we can do this."

Amayamon stepped out from his hug. "We have to try . . ."

"How?"

"I can give you my energy. Just enough for you to adjust time."

Akemimon looked hesitant, gazing at her with pleading, but seeing the confidence in her face, he lowered his arms. " . . . Amayamon, are you positive of this?"

Amayamon briefly nodded and Akemimon made a small sigh. He held out his right hand, gloved with a red gauntlet. Amayamon rested her right hand on his. Their energies connected. She felt it, so strange. Their energies were so similar that she almost didn't tell the difference. They may be the same, but the color was different, as well. Her energy was black, like the symbol of Yin, and his energy was as white as Yang. She felt her energy flowing into Akemimon's energy, black waves mingling with white waves. Abruptly, she cut off the flow, already feeling feeble. She sat down on the bench, keeping unmoving so the dizziness lessened. 

Akemimon looked at her worriedly and Amayamon just answered back with a tired smile. Taking another worried gaze, he then stepped to where the entrance led to a small clearing. He rested his hands on empty air and began to type. Wherever his fingers touched the air, small squares appeared and faded suddenly, like he was working on an invisible keyboard, only can be seen when touched. Data only can be arranged by using a keyboard. That was how Akemimon worked, working on a keyboard like a person worked on a computer. Amayamon could feel the data moving around her. It felt like ripples in the air, waving against her in small, faint surges. Ripples came out from Akemimon's fingers, spreading and spreading until the air was full of chaotic ripples. 

He was changing time.

Amayamon looked up to the twilight sky. It was still cloudy, but the rain had stopped. Then she noticed something odd. But she has noticed it before and the cold fist tightened around her heart. _'It begins . . .'_ she thought miserably. The trees around Digi Chinatown were changing. It went slow, but Amayamon can see it easily. The leaves were blue with a tint of pink, stooping in the air. She could see something creeping in the color of the leaves, something black and grey. The leaves looked like they were dying, changing their blue color into grey-black. The world was changing. It was Daematermon's doing, she knew it. She can feel the darkness here.

She was once touched by Daematermon, possessed her, and ever since she was freed, she still had the contamination inside her. It pained her often when the living darkness was near. She perhaps had the added ability to sense the darkness. It was awful for her when Myalomyotismon spread his darkness. She thought she would die from the crushing sensation of the force.

 Amayamon hugged herself as she watched the blue leaves changing into the dead black color. The trees seemed to lose persistence and life as their branches drooping as if in grief. To her, the world seemed to be sad that its protectors were gone. She knew the dangers for the children to face the Final Evil, but the Digimon needed them. She thought to herself, her eyes misting, _'Children of the Digital, you must defeat her. You are our last hope.'_

***

Prophetmon thoughtfully studied the warrior before him. He almost didn't recognize him at first when he looked for him. He was changed, not in appearance, but in personality. He seemed so quiet, listening to everything, seeing everything. Prophetmon found him standing at the same beach where the Digidestined once faced Vampdevimon. He first wondered why the warrior showed up there, but he then remembered that that warrior was a formidable Digimon. He liked to fight. Perhaps he came to drink the scents and sights of the battle. The sun was already setting, and the orange-pink light bathed the warrior's armor. He was watching the ocean, the orange light painting the waters magnificently.

Prophetmon patiently sat on a rock when he found him. He didn't want to disturb him during his watch. He was quiet, waiting for the warrior to notice him, and obviously, he did, not turning to look at him, but speaking out as if Prophetmon was in front of him.

"Do you feel it, Prophetmon?" the warrior whispered. His voice was bold, new and full of interest. "The world is dying. I can feel it. You might not notice that, but the plants are withering, the oceans are drying up, and the air is getting unclean."

Prophetmon glanced sidelong to the plants that were at the boundary between the beach and the charred trees. The trees were not at the blast of the attack, and they were lucky just to get burned. He then shrugged and looked over to the warrior, seeing only his back. "Even though you are made, you have a strong bond with the world, stronger than mine."

"That's because I learned to accept life." The warrior turned to face him. His golden eyes were bright, not touched by the dusk light. "Thanks to you."

He heard the thankfulness in his voice and Prophetmon shook his head. "Do not thank me. Thank yourself for accepting it."

The warrior was silent for a moment, considering his words, then looked back to the water. His voice was questioningly. "What do you want from me?"

Prophetmon made a chuckle. "You still have a warrior's heart. You can't stand long talks."

"We haven't any time," the warrior reminded him. "The world is dying."

The Prophet knew that. Clutching on his staff for comfort, he said, "The children are separated all over Server by Daematermon."

"And you want me to find them?" the warrior simply added.

"The children must stay together, or we have no chance to save the worlds."

The warrior seemed to pause in his thoughts, and then turned to him. His expression was confusion. "Why do you want me to do this? You have other Digimon to command."

Prophetmon frowned. "I do not command. I ask." He rested his elbows on his knees and rested his chin on his hands. "The Fate Digimon already agreed to help. I want you to help, too. I trust you."

The warrior appeared lightly surprised at his words and lowered his gaze. "You trust me . . ." His words were covered with tenderness, as if he was never trusted before. He then realized something and a pensive look appeared in his eyes. He whispered, "_Will_ they trust me?"

"They will." Prophetmon gave him an encouraging smile in his eyes. "They will have to trust everybody in the end."

The warrior reflected on his words, gazing at him for a moment. Prophetmon kept on smiling, his own eyes pleading. The warrior slowly nodded and stepped over to Prophetmon. He whispered in an understanding voice, "I will do what you ask of me." He then leaped up in the air, gliding into the darkness.

Prophetmon nodded. "Thank you, friend." Now he went to visit someone that he hasn't seen for a long time.

***

The ancient tortoise was chopping a blue-colored apple of some kind. He looked funny, a tortoise in a dark green robe. He was short and twice as wide, standing on short legs. His back was covered with a thick, plated blue-lined shell. Small eyeglasses covered his black eyes, his time half-closed and relaxed.

For the briefest moment, he stopped, sensing someone in his cottage, but made no move to be obviously aware of the presence. Quietly, he putted down the knife and wobbled over to the hearth where a griddle stood in the fire, cooking dumplings. Crouching, he checked to make sure they were ready enough, and then stood up. 

"You know better to sneak in," Vesamon said. "I'm too alert for that."

"I know that, Vesamon." There was a smile in the voice. "I want to see if you are getting senile."

Vesamon let his gentle face frown as he turned to face the presence. Prophetmon stood by the door, easily hiding in the shadows, not using his own shadowy cloak. His azure eyes were soft and glad as he smiled to the tortoise. 

"I may be as old as the Holy Beasts," Vesamon said, his arms akimbo, his black eyes intense, "but by the Digi, I know I'm not senile! Why aren't you being polite to your caretaker?" Even though that the Prophet called him senile, Vesamon's heart warmed to see him back. He was so glad that he tried to hide a lonely smile.

Prophetmon tilted his head to one side. "You know me."

"Yes, yes, I know you." Vesamon turned to continue chopping the fruit, finally smiling. "Why are you here?"

There was surprise in his voice as Prophetmon questioned, "You don't know?"

"Of course, I do!" Vesamon replied, casting him a sharp gaze. "I know what is going on out there. I'm asking you why _you _are here."

Prophetmon somehow paused to say something. There was a twinge of grief for a moment in his words. "I'm here . . . to . . ." He cleared his throat, regained his composure. "The world is in danger and I want you to get to a safe place."

Vesamon closed his eyes, his heart clenching in coldness. "It's not the only reason why you are here."

" . . . Vesamon . . ." Prophetmon pleaded, his voice thick.

The tortoise turned. Prophetmon was hugging his staff, surprisingly just like a human child, his eyes misting. His face was heartrending. He was grieved of something. Vesamon knew why. "You haven't found him?" he said softly.

The Prophet shook his head. "He is gone . . ." His eyes closed and Vesamon could see tears streaming out, running down his cheeks. His voice was small and tearful. "Grandpa, I miss him . . ."

Vesamon felt his eyes misting, but he didn't let the tears come out. He pulled the Digimon into his grandfatherly embrace as Prophetmon silently wept. The green-clad wizard clung on him, burying his face in the robe, tears flowing out. Vesamon said nothing, just letting him crying, feeling the shaking body in his arms and trying to comfort him by rubbing his hand upon Prophetmon's back. He did that often when Prophetmon's profound grief broke through his tranquility. He knew that Prophetmon was very grieved and would never be fully recovered from his mourning. Vesamon only can be there for him to comfort and let him cry once again.

Soon, Prophetmon stopped crying, but remained in the tortoise's embrace, resting his head on the arms. Vesamon cooed, "It is okay, little one. Even if he is gone, he is still in your heart."

"But it's not the same," Prophetmon whispered unhappily.

"No, it is not, but it's better than none." Vesamon nudged him into a sitting position. He used his sleeve to wipe away tears. Old memories returned, remembering of him wiping the younger Digimon's tears. "I remember you come here, weeping your heart out when he died."

Prophetmon bowed his head, his floppy hat falling off onto the ground. "And I wasn't there for him . . . I didn't get to say good-bye."

Vesamon paternally touched the long blonde hair, feeling the texture. "But you broke through."

Prophetmon looked up. "Thanks to you. If it wasn't for you, I would be out of my mind."

Vesamon didn't want him to mourn too much. He'd done that and he knew that mourning too much wasn't good for the heart and mind. He simply smiled at the youngster. "Well, I'm glad you came visit me. I'm getting lonely."

"Ridiculous." But Prophetmon managed to smile through his tears.

Vesamon stood up and picked up the green hat. "Now, wipe your tears, boy, and come sit and eat with me."

Prophetmon cast him an apologetic gaze as Vesamon walked to the low table. "I'd love to, but I can't. The world is in danger and the Digidestined are missing. I can't find them, can't call on the Watcher. Time is running out."

Vesamon placed the hat beside a plate he had set and smiled to him. "But you can spare time for me." 

Prophetmon's voice was hot as he spoke, "But, Vesamon, I want to stop my -" He abruptly stopped himself, shutting his mouth in sudden realization. He looked away, continuing with a stiff voice, ". . . her."

Vesamon said nothing, knowing who he was talking about. He couldn't dare to speak the name in fear that he would be found. The tortoise turned to move the dumplings onto a platter. "She will be stopped," he mentioned positively. "But you can't force Fate to hurry up. Fate acts on its own."

"Fate is no longer important. Life is," he bluntly said.

The tortoise sighed and placed the platter on the table. Then, he gazed carefully to him. "Prophetmon, you may see Fate, but you cannot force Fate. You cannot."

The wizard averted his head, his bangs clouding over the azure eyes. Vesamon sat upon the pillows and tapped the table. "Now, sit down and eat."

Defeated, Prophetmon knew that nothing can crush Vesamon's patience. He nodded with a gentle smile in his face as he sat at the opposite of the table. Vesamon watched as Prophetmon took a dumpling and quietly ate in it. His eyes were lowered as though he was deeply thinking. Vesamon suddenly remembered him eating that way, he and his twin. He suddenly felt lonesome, and he shook his head to forget the solitude. He may have chosen to be a hermit, but once in a while, he yearned for company, particularly for Prophetmon's. He also ate in a dumpling, tasting the meaty and grainy tastes.

"You say you want me to leave here . . ." Vesamon said to break the silence.

Prophetmon didn't look up, staring at his half-eaten dumpling. "Yes, to Destiny Island. Once we find the Digidestined, we will take them there."

_Destiny Island . . ._ Vesamon grimaced, remembering about the Destiny Island, where the First Battle begun and the Villains that ruled the Digiworld were first born. He remembered. He was one of the few Digimon still alive that was born before the First Battle. "Why there?" he questioned.

Prophetmon looked up, almost in puzzlement at his question. "It's the only safe place left."

"No place is safe anymore from her."

He noticed the flinches shaking Prophetmon's body and he lowered his gaze at the dumpling as if in guilt. Vesamon sighed and reached over to pat on Prophetmon's hand. "Don't worry too much. You take too much responsibility. Let the Digidestined work on what they can do. Let Fate act. Everything will be alright."

"You know that the Final Battle _will_ decide the future, no matter how," Prophetmon said, frowning. "Either way, we will live in light or in darkness."

Vesamon rested his elbows, patiently eating his dumpling. His black eyes were closed, oddly, in a sagacious appearance. He appeared undisturbed. "That, I'm aware of, but I have faith. It's important to have faith in each other or all will be in vain."

He heard lightly awed silence from Prophetmon for a moment, then he spoke, "Yes, Grandpa."

Vesamon opened his eyes, grinning, putting down his dumpling. "It's a while since you called me that." 

Prophetmon was looking at him like a child, wondering and inquisitive. Though, he asked carefully, "It pains you?"

"No." He smiled appreciatively. "My children may be deleted a long time ago, but I'm not grieved. I still have you as my other child."

Prophetmon stared at him in mild surprise. But he could see the lonesomeness in his azure eyes, along with strong fondness for Vesamon. The wizard seemed at a loss for words, and he looked down to the dumpling, his gloved fingers lightly stroking the surface. Vesamon knew how he felt, although he'd never been through what the wizard suffered. Vesamon was raised with love. Prophetmon was raised with neglect. He had lost the two people he cherished the most in his life and Vesamon was the only one left. Perhaps the Watcher was part of his life, as well, for he showed great care of her. Vesamon wondered how terrible his life could be since he experienced no love. 

***

"What?! Are you insane?! Leave the temple to the darkness?!"

Sanimon, the Guardian of the Digidestined, was not happy. Her golden eyes blazed intensely at the green-clad Digimon standing before her. She didn't like the sight of him giving her an apologetic look, meant to calm her down. She hardly got livid, being a reserved Digimon, but when Prophetmon simply entered her temple and told her that she had to leave here, she got mad. 

"You are asking a request that I cannot do!" her voice raised an octave. She stood in the center of the room where the crests were engraved on the walls, glaring at Prophetmon who stood by the door. "I'm vowed to protect this place!"

"Sanimon . . ." he quietly spoke.

"And you want me to go to Destiny Island?" She shook her head in disbelief, her golden eyes elsewhere but on him. "It's madness!"

"Sanimon!" Prophetmon barked, his tolerance finally snapping. Sanimon whirled to him, daring to retort back, but his azure eyes somewhat changed into midnight blue, very sharp and forebodingly that she controlled down her temper. Prophetmon then sighed, striding closer to her. "Now, Sanimon, you must be calm." He held up a hand to stop her from speaking up. "Listen to me. I know what I ask from you is absurd, but the corruption is already spreading. Digimon are trying to find safe places from it, and I'm willing to take them to safety." He stopped there, gazing protectively at her. "You are my friend and I want you to be safe."

Sanimon bit on her lower lip and gazed around at the room. "But leaving my home?"

"Nothing will touch the temple; it's protected. But you know that you won't be safe inside. You don't want the corruption to touch you and delete you."

The red-robed Digimon kept on shaking her head, averting her head.

There was silence from him, then he whispered insistently, ". . . Please?"

Sanimon was surprised to hear the appeal in his voice. As much as she knew him, he hardly showed his emotions. His voice was touching to her, but she was also uneasy at his emotions. Why was he showing his emotions? Was the danger the world was in that bad? Sanimon glanced sidelong to Prophetmon, questioning, "What about the Digidestined? Do they know?"

Prophetmon lowered his gaze. "Unfortunately, Daematermon has separated them and they are scattered somewhere in the Digiworld. I can't find them. I already asked the Fate Digimon and the Dark Warrior."

"Oh, dear . . ." Sanimon whispered in astonishment. It _was_ bad. The Digidestined were somewhere, hidden, and not even the psychic Prophetmon can find them. And he had to ask the Fate Digimon for help? Even the Dark Warrior, the one that she thought she would never see alive? It was serious, too serious. The world _was_ in total danger.

Prophetmon then pointed to the Tapestry that was hanging from a ceiling. "And it's urgent that you bring the Tapestry to Destiny Island."

Sanimon cast him an astounded look, her eyes wide in disbelief. The Tapestry was one of the portraits that expressed the Digidestined, the one that characterized the New Kids with their powers. The Murals on the walls above the stairways were the same, showing the Old Kids' powers. The Tapestry was one of the cherished objects, and_ Prophetmon wanted her to take it to Destiny Island?_

" . . . What?" Sanimon spoke.

Prophetmon looked back, a bit puzzled at her reaction. "The Digital Warriors need to know about their powers. We cannot delay any longer." He then headed for the door.

He seemed so hurried about something, she has noticed. "Prophetmon," she said with a frown, "Why are you hurrying? It's not like you at all."

"Sanimon, it no longer matters," he said, not stopping in his walk. She hurried after him, listening to his words, her disbelief growing. "The Final Battle is coming. The Digidestined must be prepared. We must take them to safety and help the Armor Children learn their powers. We must find the Fallen Children and -"

She can't believe what she was hearing. She can't believe that Prophetmon was like that. She didn't know what happened to him. Sanimon paused in the center of the hallway where the stairways were and calmly said, "No."

Prophetmon stopped just before the doors and turned to her, perplexed. "What? You know we are supp -"

"I know what I'm supposed to do," Sanimon said firmly, looking every inch as a Guardian. Her face was sharp, determined. "As a Guardian of the Digital World, my duty is to guide the Children in their goal to defeat the evil. That's it." Her voice softened. "I will leave here to Destiny Island. I will help the children. But I will not take the Tapestry. They must learn on their own. I will not force them to find their powers beforehand the Final Battle." 

Her voice hardened. "I will not help you force Fate." Seeing the tenacious expression on Prophetmon, she sighed, stepping close. "Prophetmon, I don't know what've got in you, but I know that we cannot alter destiny. I know that the Armor Children will learn their powers, but in time. The Fallen Children will be found, but in time."

Prophetmon exhaled a soft sigh. "I'm sorry, Sanimon." He turned to look up to the murals. Sanimon also looked. The nine murals were draped on the walls, each of them showing each of the Old Kids in their new clothing. 

The two paintings had changed four years ago when the younger Digidestined left the world for the safety of their world. Sanimon knew that the paintings were supposed to demonstrate the Old Kids. The Saint and the Savoir had left their circle of the Nature Children and joined the Armor Children, and in turn, two new Nature Children joined in the circle, filling the positions.

The painting that once held the picture of the Savior was now carrying the soul of the Keeper. Clad in a long snow-white trench coat and orange shirt and pants, the Keeper was standing in the background of night blue, like a snow angel guardian. His grin was bright and confident, with a sparkle of mischief in his hazel eyes. Sanimon didn't meet him yet, but she can suspect that she would enjoy his company. The painting frame was now tinted white.

The last painting in the middle, where the Saint was supposed to be, had already changed. Its frame was no longer pink, but now a soft purple color, like a lilac color. It had a new face, the face of the Watcher. She was clad in black: a black denim jumper with a white shirt underneath. She also wore a dark blue blazer jacket with red, black and golden stripes on the hem. Around her waist, there was a sash of some kind, colored with every shade of the rainbow, tied on her left side and curling around her legs. She was sitting in a pose that radiated sadness, sitting with her left side facing outward, her arms around her pulled-up legs, her head bowed, and her eyes half-closed as if in grief. When Sanimon first saw it, she was so surprised at the pose that she wondered what would happen to the Watcher in the Final Battle. She didn't want to know what Fate had in for her.

Prophetmon did notice the new mural of the Watcher and a great sadness came in his face. Shaking his head, he returned to whatever he said, "The Final Battle is coming, so close, and I feel I have to do something . . ." He stared down to his hands. "I'm the source of all the prophecies of the Digiworld . . . Each of them came true . . ." Then he looked back to Sanimon. "This is my last prophecy. It's the only one that I cannot see the end. I can't tell if we will live in peace or not . . . "

Sanimon enfolded her hands within her sleeves. "Then why do you feel afraid of the future?"

"I noticed that I didn't predict any new prophecy after this one . . . nothing . . ." A bewildered and pondering feature crossed on his face. "I wonder . . . Is my duty finished after the Final Battle? Will I be no longer needed? Is it possible that after the Final Battle, I will . . . die?"

A terrible dark premonition struck Sanimon, causing her skin to blanch. She clenched a hand upon his arm, looking up to his azure eyes. "Don't think that way . . ."

He cast a sad smile. "I can't help it . . ." He then took a breath, looking up to the murals for a moment. He again asked, "Sanimon, will you go?" His hand squeezed on her hand.

"Yes."

Prophetmon made another smile, this time grateful. "Thank you." He was about to turn to walk out when he stopped his tracks. He tilted his head as if was listening, and then she noticed a sullen frown on his face.

"What's the matter?" Sanimon questioned.

"Gennai Unmon," he answered. "He contacted me. He wants to talk with me."

Gennai Unmon? The Unmon who was the mentor and guide of the Digidestined? Sanimon wondered what reasons why Gennai wanted to talk with him. She took a glance at him, pondering about the responsibilities he has faced with. She wondered if he will be all right, that with the eerie words he just spoke of his death.

" . . . Will I see you at Destiny Island?" she asked, looking hopeful.

Prophetmon didn't look at her, facing the doors. "Probably. I have so many things to do."

"Be careful, okay?"

The Prophet simply nodded and disappeared into the dark forest that surrounded the mansion. Sanimon watched him going, once again feeling the apprehension shivering her. She knew what the future of the Digiworld was. She wondered what the future of Prophetmon was.

***

"Greetings, Avenger."

Gennai turned his head from his standing position. He was at his lake, watching the pink water rippling in the dawn light. It was his home for thousands of years, as long as he remembered. His house was hidden underwater, sheltered by a force field of his making. Some Unmons thought that it was odd to live underwater, but he found it better and safe to live underwater, away from his enemies, away from his friends, away from himself. But now, as he saw recent events happening, he thought it was better to leave. He wasn't sure where should he go, but he knew that he will find out what to do later.

When he heard the voice, Gennai frowned at Prophetmon who stepped out from behind the bushes. He didn't hear him coming; he must've been too engrossed in the waters.

"I believe I did request you not to call me by that cursed name," Gennai muttered.

Prophetmon tilted his head, his mouth hidden by the high collar, so he couldn't tell if the Digimon was smiling or frowning. "Yet, it's your rightful title."

"Rightful, my foot," Gennai disagreed. A hand clenched into a fist. "I so desired to avenge their deaths, but I cannot, because of _'destiny'_." He spat the last word with dislike. He turned to watch the waters. "Never the Avenger, I was. Never will."

"I'm sorry you felt that way."

The Unmon didn't answer, standing alone in the breeze, his robes softly flapping.

Prophetmon moved to stand beside him, leaning on his moon-staff. He kept his eyes on him for a second, and then said, "You did ask me to meet here."

Gennai crossed his arms, eyes closed. "You can read my mind. What I'm going to say shouldn't be that surprising to you."

Prophetmon sounded stony. "I believe I'm to be scolded for my recent actions, isn't that right?"

"You promised your brother."

This time, the Digimon didn't answer, turning to watch the waters, suddenly silent. Gennai looked at him, lightly puzzled of his sudden silence. He also seemed remorseful in a way that it surprised him. Gennai never saw him that sad. 

"You forgot, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't."

"Then why did you do it?"

"He asked me."

Gennai was concerned. He rested a hand on the Digimon's shoulder, voicing quietly, "Prophetmon . . . You have to accept it. He's dead, and he's not coming back."

Prophetmon quickly shook his head, looking back. There was sad hope shining in his azure eyes, sad that he knew it was true and hopeful that he still believed otherwise. "No. He's waiting for me. We promised we won't leave here alone. We were born together, and we will die together. We did promise that."

Gennai withdrew his hand, looking sympathetic. He did believe that way, but now, he gave up on hope. He turned his gaze at the waters. "For a long time, I felt the same. I constantly hoped against hope that my friends will come back, and everything will be the same as before. But it won't happen. Never will. I accepted that they are not coming back." His voice broke and he blinked back tears. "But, yes, it hurts, Prophetmon. It's supposed to hurt when you lose your friends."

Prophetmon watched him with sharing sympathy. "We do understand each other," he whispered. "Your grief must be greatly burdensome."

Gennai was transformed back to his bitterness. "Don't make me talk about grief." He glared hotly at the waters, and Prophetmon noticed his mood. He just said nothing and watched the waters. For a moment, the Unmon and Digimon stood alone and together, each in their grief. Then Gennai cleared his throat. "There is something else I request of you. I want you to give the Golden Lens to me."

Prophetmon jerked his head at him, eyes flashing with rebellion. His gloved hand went to his neck and curled protectively over the small gold stone. 

Gennai said frankly, "I know it's your rightful place to guard the Golden Lens, but you wrongfully tapped in its power to digivolve, regardless of the danger." He wasn't there to see the recent battle, but he had ways to know what was happening. He was an Unmon. Unmons had the ability to know thing, much like . . . gods. Sometimes, he found it distasteful to know precious secrets of the Digidestined without letting them know, but sometimes, it was important for him to do that. It helped him understand them better.

Prophetmon lost the rebellion in his gaze, but his hand still held the stone. He spoke carefully and emphatically, "Are you aware that we do need the Digidestined to save the worlds?"

Gennai was silent, and then responded soberly, "What if we don't need them?"

" . . . ?"

"Have you ever noticed that no matter how they fight the darkness, it keeps coming back? There's no way to stop it, not will be any way! Those children fought for nothing, suffered for nothing."

The Digimon remained silent; his eyes hazed as if he did hear what he was saying, but instead of looking at him, looked at the past of the Digidestined's battles. He was like that for a moment and it made Gennai uneasy. He heard that when Prophetmon looked dazed, that meant he was looking at the future.

Then Prophetmon directly looked at him, and he was no longer sad or angry. He looked like he knew something new. He then said softly, "If we cannot fight the darkness for the future . . . then we will fight it for the past."

Gennai widened his eyes at the words. Those words sounded familiar. But where did he hear that? 

Prophetmon noticed his astonishment and nodded. "You do know what I mean. Although, we both wish not to face the past . . . it's meant to be." He carefully took off the Golden Lens and placed it in Gennai's hands. It faded in the glow, in a half-Digimon's hands, but still glowing. Prophetmon continued, "Yes, I did predict facing the past, each of us will. It's up to us to face it. Will we welcome it?"

The Digimon silently disappeared in the bushes, leaving the Unmon alone with the Golden Lens faintly glowing as if radiated by his words.

***

It was an hour later when he arrived at the Temple of the Digivice.

Gennai stepped around a corner and stood in the chamber that held the altar used for the high honor of the Digivice. The drawing of the Digivice was on the far wall, colored white, and the chamber seemed to glow with its light. Often, he thought it was ridiculous that the Digimon would worship that piece of junk, but he acknowledged that Digimon lived for battles and power. They were restless and searched for a quick way, such like the Golden Lens, to digivolve to relieve their desires. Very few were passive enough to serve the mystical powers of the Digital World. 

Even after thousands of years living in the Digital World, Gennai still didn't understand the undying thirst of bloodshed of Digimon.

He walked across the room to the stone altar. It was empty; not many Digimon had visited lately, due to the increasing darkness in the Digiworld. He touched one of the runes that engraved on the altar, recognized it as digicode. He can read it fluently, but he wasn't here to read them. As he touched the rune, a small hole appeared in the middle of the altar, appeared out of nowhere. He placed the Golden Lens in the hole and again touched the rune. The hole closed over the Golden Lens, and he hoped that he found a good hiding place for the Golden Lens. If the Final Battle was true . . . He feared it. He hoped that it will never happen, but if it was real and was coming, the Golden Lens must be hidden at all costs.

Gennai rested a hand on the surface and sighed. "How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. You keep forgetting that I'm the Guardian here."

He turned back to see a large, ancient Centarumon walking inside. His old friend. He didn't realize that the Digimon was very old. Digimon do age, just differently from Humans. Digimon don't die from age, but can get old and old as long as they live. As they get old, they get more powerful. Gennai recalled that Centarumon would be the same age as him, so that meant the Digimon was very ancient, born from a different time during the early years of the Digiworld. Centarumon was a fighter, but he chose to keep and guard the Temple.

Gennai's mind flooded with sad memories of his friend and again sighed.

Centarumon walked closer, but stayed in the center. "I haven't seen you in a long time, old friend. Why didn't you visit me lately?"

"I have some things to attend," he answered, and then turned to eye the Digivice symbol. He wasn't curious of it; he needed something to keep his gaze off his friend. Seeing his friend was too painful to remember.

"What are you thinking about?" Centarumon asked as he silently stomped to his side. ". . . You don't seem yourself. What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

Centarumon shook his head in disagreement. He putted a large hand on Gennai's back, just like when they were younger and when Gennai needed a hand to comfort him. "Gennai, I know you more than you know yourself. I know it's something wrong. Just remember, I'm chosen to protect you at all times."

Gennai was suddenly bitter as he glared back. "Right, just like you Digimon Guardians were supposed to protect my friends?"

Centarumon didn't say anything, digging one of his hooves in the dirt, his red eye watching him. 

Gennai kept on saying sourly, "I don't think it's a mean of protection anymore. You'd seen those children. They had to fight for the survival of the others and themselves, using whatever they had. They had learned to survive, as I had done. It's a mean of survival now. Life just got meaner, Centarumon."

The Centaur Digimon just watched back, silent. Gennai sighed, brushing his hand through his short hair. He then held on the large hand, feeling the rough skin and gentle touches. "I'm sorry, old friend. I just got upset about everything lately." He rested his forehead on the hand for a moment, then let go of it. He sounded weary. "I don't even want to talk about it."

Centarumon just nodded. Seeing that the horseman wasn't saying anything, Gennai exhaled and turned on his way out. But his Digimon stopped him before he could leave. 

"Just to let you know . . ." Centarumon said as Gennai looked at him in puzzlement in the hallway. "Citta visited me earlier."

Gennai blinked at the name. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, and his chest contracted with emotions. "Citta? Why? What was she doing here?"

"She came because she remembered me," he answered.

"She . . . remembered?" When the Digimon nodded, Gennai was disbelieved. "But it's impossible . . ." He paused, thinking. "Centarumon, what about . . .?"

Centarumon shook his head. "No, I haven't seen Liu or Isyn lately. But if the prophecy is true, they will come."

Gennai rested a hand on a wall to steady himself. He didn't want to believe his Digimon's words, but the hope that he wrapped around tightly with doubt and sorrow and buried deep in his mind began to struggle and break through. It was possible. The Final Battle was coming and he might have a chance . . . to avenge his friends' deaths.

***

As anybody was concerned, there are always two sides on a coin. The coin could be compared to anything, such like light and darkness, which was an ancient belief ever since the dawn of time that you can't have light without darkness. You can't have happiness without sorrow. You can't have life without death. You can't have one without other. Ancient people were really clever, perhaps more than we ever thought. They may be primitive in our point of view, but often they were right in natural events and mental actions when we worked too hard to find the right or one answer to solve everything. They were related with themselves so well that they seemed psychic.

It may be an odd or a stupid question, depending on your outlook, but do you really believe in light and darkness as reality? Do you really think that the darkness is all bad? Or to change the question a bit, do you think the light is all good? Yes, there are two sides on the coin, but it seems that the coin may have more than two faces. While the coin has the faces of light and darkness, often, the light and darkness have two faces of their own. 

Light is good and bad. Light helps you to see your way, but can also blind you. 

Darkness is bad and good. Darkness blinds you from your way, but can also teach you to find your way using other possibilities. 

Reasonable, huh?

Logical or not, it's the truth. It's all about how you depend on light and darkness. Ancient people know that. They learned to respect light and darkness because they were there. Belief may not be reality to you, but at least, you have the capability to understand how the world works and use your imagination to believe, regardless if your belief is true or false. You believe or you don't believe. If you don't believe . . . well, how can you believe in reality, then?

Learn to use your ears, eyes, touch, and everything else to listen, and you will be surprised at how the world talks. The world would say that it's in danger or just feeling dandy. It would not talk at all. It's just up to you if you want to listen.

It won't hurt to try.

 To be continued.


	8. Ember and Glass

My Disclaimer:

I DO NOT OWN DIGIMON: MONSTERS! Loud enough for you, darlings? :)

Children of the Digital

Part 8: Ember and Glass

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

He felt like he was floating in darkness.

All he could see in his mind's eye was a strange blackness, draping around him like a mantle, keeping him warm and cradling him. He would be more than to continue his slumber in this strange blackness, but somewhere inside him, a twinge of consciousness sparked out. It was not just this, but a tad, a fleck of a strong loyalty emerged. A desire to find his friends, a need to protect them. Bit by bit, consciousness returned, gently rousing him into faint alertness.

He slowly became aware that he was laying on his back. His legs felt like they were burned sore, like he lost most of their energy and couldn't move. At first, he panicked, but then he felt no fear of it and relaxed, trying to use his regaining senses to find his surroundings. The air he was breathing was dusty and a bit stale. It was cool, too. He grew curious of his surroundings.

His tawny eyes opened into a slit. A soft grey dimness met his gaze, and he silently gazed around. All he saw was the ceiling, which was partly hidden by the dimness. Specks of dust drifted by, moved by a soft stirring of the air. Somewhere out of his vision, faint sunlight shone, mildly radiating the room. In a room? He must be, because of the ceiling. Maybe inside a house . . .

"Where am I?" Daisuke managed to speak out, feeling that he needed to hear his voice to make sure he was alive. Or something.

A head came in his sight, upside-down and colored a dark cobalt blue, reptilian. Ruby eyes shone with an inner light, shone with concern. Veemon. His rugged lips then cracked into a grin. "About time you woke up. You can be difficult to wake."

"Dude, it's not time to joke," Daisuke cast back a grin, then turned serious quickly_. Loyalty . . ._ He sat up, scrutinizing around. He was in a room, moderate in size and dark in light. It looked like a toy room to him. Bookshelves lined on the walls, filled with dolls, toys, and playthings, some smiling at him, some laying down and most on the floor, as if left behind by an unhappy child. More bookshelves stood in the middle of the room in several rows, also full. Boxes, chests, bags, all full of toys were scattered in corners. They were covered with a light coat of dust.

"Where are we?" Daisuke asked, turning to his Digimon. The blue beast simply shrugged in question. The bronze-haired boy stood, dust flaking off his clothes. He had this strange feeling that he wasn't alone here. He could hear breathing, very faint and distant, and the loyal tingling again tickled, urging him to find his friends.

"Hey, hello!" Daisuke cupped around his mouth. "Anybody here?" He stepped around a wooden bookshelf, trying to see in the dimness. Almost instantly after, a breath inhaled, as if someone was trying to say something, and a crash rumbled behind. Startled, Daisuke jumped around, braced for an attack, fists clenched and ready. A dust cloud met his face and he coughed, waving away the haze. He heard an annoyed mumble from inside the dust cloud, and as the cloud settled, he saw a blonde boy sitting up, rubbing his head. 

"Matt! Are you all right?" Daisuke said, giving him an aiding hand. 

"What kind of idiot who leaves roller skates on the floor?" Yamato growled, giving an icy glare toward a pair of roller skates laying beside him, one of the wheels spinning. He then grabbed on his ward's hand to help him stand up. As he dusted off his mantle and pants, Daisuke then heard a shuffling, like feet shambling among toys. In the dimness, a figure appeared, and Daisuke recognized it as Taichi. Taichi stepped from around a bookshelf, his gloved hands trying to brush away the hovering dust. 

"Man, it's dusty in here," Taichi spoke, his face lightly contorted. His eyes were narrowed as he scanned around, as like he knew this place.

"Tai, does this place look familiar?" Yamato said, noticing the leader's sharp gaze.

Taichi nodded. "Yeah, I think so . . ."

Daisuke looked at his Protectors' faces. There was something else beside the recognition in their faces. Mild anxiety . . . "Do you know where we are?"

"Not sure," said Taichi, "But I'm determined to find out." He held up an opened hand, and instantly a flame appeared, hovering above his palm, the orange-yellow light bathing the group's faces. Daisuke, startled, almost jumped at the suddenness and the peculiarity of a flame sitting on a vulnerable human hand. Everybody noticed that.

"Davis, are you all right?" Veemon questioned.

The boy made a lopsided smile, rubbing his neck. "Oh, it's nothing. It's just seeing you having those powers . . ." He glanced at the flame. It seemed so unnatural, the flame not hurting Taichi at all. He was aware that Taichi had the ability to control flames, his skin having the capability to prevent any degree of fire and heat. Still, it was too weird . . . "It spooks me."

"It bothers you?" Yamato asked, his stern face holding light curiosity.

"A bit. It feels unnatural, you know?"

"Would you like to have that kind of power?" Taichi said.

Daisuke glanced at him in surprise, then again grinned. "Oh, it would be cool if I do, but . . ."

"But what?"

"Really, do I have to?" Daisuke spoke. He knew about the powers and their abilities. At first, he thought it was amazing and awesome to have one of those powers and using it to his command. Then he thought more on that and he realized that . . . yes, it was cool, but to him, it was unnatural. Being a Digidestined and meeting those Digimon were very paranormal and different, but now that his Protectors and the Old Kids had those _powers_ to add to the weirdness, it was a bit too much. Daisuke admitted that he didn't think highly of himself having a power. He was satisfied with himself, being a Digidestined, having a Digimon Guardian and content with his life. He was happy. He was comfortable. He didn't think that having a power would make him any happier.

"Having a power can be cool," he continued, 'But it's just not for me."

The Guardian gave him an astonished look and grinned over to Taichi. "Amazing! Davis, modest."

The Master made a knowing smile, turning to Daisuke. There was understanding in his tan eyes. "Well, Davis, you are a Digidestined. It's possible for you to have a power, not unlike ours."

"Possible?" Daisuke let himself think of the possibilities. "Maybe I could have the power of Strength or even Speed!" For a brief moment, he could imagine what he can do with Speed in his soccer games.

As Taichi chuckled, Yamato nodded, thoughtful. "I think we have all the powers. If there were another kind of power, we would've known."

Daisuke knew that he wasn't dampening on his hopes. He expected it and he didn't plan to look forward to have a power. He simply shrugged and grinned. "As I said, having a power is not for me."

The Master opened the door and the group entered into a hallway. The hallway was bright, painted with soft white, yellow, and blue, and it had the sensation of childlike playfulness to it. Yamato reached to touch a wall, a haunted remembrance to his face. "Look at this . . . It _does_ look familiar."

The red-streaked teenager silently took in the hallway's details. "Puppetmon's playhouse."

Yamato lowered his hand, nodding. "Yes, that's it."

"Puppetmon?" Daisuke repeated the name, trying to remember. His Protectors told him all about their personal adventures, and he then recalled the wooden Dark Master. "Oh, you told me about him."

"Yes," Taichi nodded, and then shook his head in puzzlement. "It's strange. We did destroy the playhouse, and now it's still standing."

There was an eerie silence from Yamato. The haunted pain deepened in his grey-blue eyes and he almost abruptly, turned to Taichi. "Tai, can we get out of here? This place is uncomforting. Bad memories."

Taichi gently touched on the blonde's arm, giving him comfort. "I know . . . Let's go."

As the group moved down the hallway, Daisuke then got another feeling, this time safety and pride in the presence of his Protectors. He once had that feeling before, but not as powerful. Perhaps, it was because he didn't know that they had powers then, and their powers seemed to add the powerfulness and dominance to their presence. Walking behind them, Daisuke watched them, imagining their strength. The Master, clad in his orange tabard that was meant for a knight, had nobility to him, dignified and dominant, every inch of him the destined Leader of the Old Kids. It was clear that his title was the Master because he _was_ the master of all. The Guardian was the same yet different. He showed strong protection for his friends, especially for the Master, walking at his left and a bit behind, like a guard watching over his friend. 

The Brother felt meek under his Protectors' strength.

They arrived to a giant stairway that led down to two tall doors. Unlike the childlike hallway, the walls and doors were violently colored, like a mischievous child threw pints of colors upon the walls. Purple, blue, red, orange, green, and yellow clashed together, hurting the eyes. They went downstairs and tried to open the doors. To their disbelief, the doors refused to open. Taichi, the stronger one, did his best to pull on the knobs, his face strained with the heave. Daisuke and Yamato tried the windows, too, but they didn't open, solidly locked. Daisuke didn't understand why. So far as he knew, the doors and windows weren't locked when the younger Digidestined entered the playhouse. Someone had locked them later, and there was no way to disengage them. Even the right window refused to break at his kicks.

Yamato didn't take the idea of being locked in easily. "That's ridiculous," he growled, his eyes wide with anxiety, glaring toward the left window. "How in the heck did we get in here, anyway?" In his nervousness, he smacked the wall.

Daisuke gazed at him with worry. Yamato rarely lost his cool and the sight of the Guardian being nervous worried him. Taichi was gazing over to Yamato, speaking softly, "Matt, calm down."

The grey-blue eyes turned back, now haunted. "I'm trying . . ." Even in his thick mantle, he shivered, rubbing his arms. "I don't like this place. Somehow, I can feel the ghost of Puppetmon here, playing with us."

"I feel the same," Taichi admitted, frowning, "but we have to be calm."

_Loyalty_ . . . Daisuke grimaced to himself. He wanted to help, but he knew that he couldn't, not understanding what was going on with Yamato. He was too nervous to be normal, and Daisuke's worry increased.

"Hey, look!" Veemon's voice caught their attention to the stairway. A box, dark red and blue, sat on a step, left behind by someone, with a crank slowly spinning at one of its side. It was a jack-in-the-box. It may look innocent, sitting there, but Daisuke felt his instincts tensing up. The box wasn't normal. It wasn't there when the boys walked downstairs. The crank was moving very idly, quietly squeaking, but with a menace, and he slightly crouched, bracing for whatever that would come out of the box.

A final squeak called the last spin. A clown body popped out, flopping with that grotesque grin. But the appearance of the clown didn't attract the terrified attention of the group. It was the Tommy gun in its hands. Small, but dangerous. The clown woodenly held up the gun. A sudden fear burst in Daisuke's chest, he gasping

_"Down!"_ Taichi yelled, his hand shooting and grab on Daisuke's arm. They fell down the ground, burying their heads. Yamato and Veemon took other shelters as they ducked behind the sides of the stairway. The firing was loud and rapid, but each bullet missed, aiming only for the walls and doors. Still, Daisuke felt the terror and his heart hammering behind his ribcage. Kindling of wood flew, broken off by the impacts, dusting over the two boys. 

Suddenly, the firing quieted down. The box was gone. The playhouse now held something different. It was no longer playful and childlike, but now menacing and hateful, as if the house itself was trying to harm the children. Daisuke knelt up, trying to slow down his breathing. He knew he had been in similar situations worse than this, but the image of a toy firing a gun disturbed him. It wasn't supposed to be like that. Toys were supposed to be nice and playful, not mean and scary.

A voice turned his attention. Yamato was stepping out from his cover. Something in him worried Daisuke. The dread was surging in the grey-blue eyes, breaking down the barrier of self-reliance and showing an intimidated Guardian. Yamato stared at where the box was and made a low growl, like a wounded wolf. 

"Forget this!" the blonde was shaken, not paying attention to the worry of the boys. "I'm going to find an exit." Then agitation appeared, shaking his body. "Just . . . just stay out of my way!" Abruptly, he turned to disappear down another small hallway that was unseen behind the stairway.

"Matt!" Daisuke shouted out. Taichi's hand squeezed on his arm and he looked over to the Master. Taichi had the deep concern in his face.

"Come on!" Taichi said, pulling him along with him. The boys and Digimon dashed down the hallway. Daisuke couldn't see any trace of Yamato, but he could feel him, feeling his bonded loyalty leading him. Something attracted him. A hole. A hole in the middle of the hall. Big enough to jump over. In the instant, the bronze-haired boy was cautious and puzzled. What was a hole doing in the middle of the hall? It wasn't there at first, he was positive. But then, the desire to find and comfort his Guardian won over. Daisuke made a brief burst of energy and smoothly leaped over the hole, Veemon following shortly.

The moment his feet landed the floor, he got the same feeling. _Loyalty_ . . . pulling on him from behind. Something wrong. Taichi. Daisuke skidded into a stop and gazed back. To his total astonished disbelief, Taichi had stopped just before the hole. The tall boy had this strange fear in his limbs, his tan eyes wide and starring down in the blackness of the hole. 

"Tai!" Daisuke called, puzzled. Fear nagging in the back of his head, but it wasn't his. It was Taichi's. "What are you doing? You can lump over!"

Taichi stepped back once and shook his head. His voice was quavering. "I . . . I can't . . . I can't jump."

"What?" Daisuke demanded. He didn't understand the fear. "Come on, Tai, you can!"

"Fear . . . of, of . . . heights." Taichi finally stepped back from the hole and slid down the wall. He suddenly looked like a frightened child, holding his arms, refusing to look at his fear.

Fear of heights . . . But, but, he thought Taichi wasn't afraid of heights anymore . . . but, but . . . "But what about Matt?" Daisuke asked, gazing back to the hallway where he hoped to see Yamato. Nothing was there, empty. _Loyalty_ . . . 

When Taichi didn't answer, Daisuke was mad. Angry. He felt like he was mocked, scorned. He felt like he couldn't protect his friends as he strongly promised himself. Yamato was gone, scared by something that only he saw or heard, and Taichi was so frightened of jumping over the tiny hole that he was like an infant, couldn't face his fear. And Daisuke felt lost, couldn't protect them.

"What's happening to you two?" Daisuke said, his tawny eyes darkening, and then turned to Veemon. "You stay here and wait and see if Matt returns. If he ever does. Ok?"

Veemon nodded in response and Daisuke leaped back over the hole. In his anger of losing his friends, Daisuke grabbed on Taichi's tabard, twisting, forcing the Master to face the Brother. "Come on, Tai! You can't just let your fear take over yourself! It's absurd of you, the powerful Master, scared of heights! Show some guts!" He glanced down the orange-tinted Crest of Courage's symbol on the tabard. "You're supposed to be Courage!"

He was hoping that Taichi saw through his fear and snapped back in hurt pride as he normally did, but Taichi just sat there, staring back with deep fear and sadness, his tan eyes paling into an ivory shade. "I can't be Courage all the time . . ." he spoke weakly. "I got scared sometimes."

The Brother's fists tightened. "But not now! Matt is gone, probably hurt, and you sit there, shaking in your boots!"

The Master didn't answer, turning his gaze and closing it. _Loyalty_ . . . Daisuke inhaled in a breath, trying to ease his anger. He felt sorrow and angrily cast it aside. It wasn't time to give up. He loosened his fists and rested them upon Taichi's shoulders. His voice was soft and pleading. "Please, Tai. I trust you. You two always show courage and friendship, and it helped me so much, helping me becomes loyal to my friends." He became serious. He was surprised to himself. He rarely became serious. Firm, perhaps, but not serious. "I'm not leaving you and I will not leave Matt, either. I want to find Matt and get you both out of here. But I can't do it unless you help me. Please, Master."

Taichi gazed to him, mild surprise and pride in his tan eyes. Then he glanced to the hole. Fear surfaced, but he was clearing fighting it. Finally, he nodded. Daisuke gave him a courageous grin and helped him stand. Together, they leaped and joined Veemon. They continued down the hallway to the end.

_Loyalty_ . . .

The room was huge, perhaps a nursery room for toddlers. There was not very much furniture in here, just a couple of beds and chairs. There were toys, too, lightly scattered on the floors. The room was softly lightened, a few shades brighter than the small room he was once in. 

Daisuke felt the bond tugging, and he quickly scanned the room for Yamato. There! The blonde was sitting in a corner, his limbs pulled close to himself in a defeated position, his head lowered. There was something to him, darkness around him, a brooding. 

"Matt!" Daisuke left Taichi, pacing across. Veemon ran ahead, arriving to the blonde first, trying to give comfort. Then another voice stopped him, halting him in the center of the room. He turned around and saw Taichi, now also brooding in the opposite corner, his tan eyes clouded. Fear . . . It wasn't right. It wasn't happening that way. Taichi wasn't supposed to be frightened. Yamato wasn't supposed to be upset.

Taichi's voice was strange; it sounded so much like him, but a few years younger, like a scared child. Taichi was speaking, 'It's not just my fear of heights. It's my fear of myself."

Then Yamato answered with a younger voice, too, his, but too young, then. He sounded upset, distressed. "All my life, I learned to avoid people, learned how to be alone."

What's happening? Daisuke didn't move, somehow mesmerized by the younger voices coming out of the older bodies. He grew unsettled as he was compelled to listen to the words that seemed to come out of the older boys' fears and anxieties.

"I was always seen as the great leader, the star captain, but they never knew the real me."

"I learned to take care of myself, only myself, and nobody else."

"They didn't know that I feared myself, fearing that they would reject me if they know the real me."

"I thought the meaning of my life was to protect my brother."

"Matt, Tai, what had gotten in you? It's not you at all," Daisuke whispered, the distress and dread coming from his Protectors filling his mind, stunning him.

"And so I had to act reckless so I can hide my fear."

"And so I had to be alone so I won't get hurt."

Anger! He can't let them talk like that! "Stop it." Daisuke growled, surprising him and Veemon. "Stop it!" He can't let them do that . . . He can't let them be so scared of themselves. He was here to help them. He was here to protect them. Daisuke began heading toward Taichi, determined to stop him talking. "Stop saying those things!"

"Stay away from him."

Daisuke halted, suddenly alarmed and afraid. The voice . . . it was exactly like Taichi, but . . . It was not. It was full of sadism, full of fear, but it wasn't the same fear Taichi had. It _gave _fear, sinking pure dread right in his soul, leaving a bleeding wound in the result. Daisuke could feel it, the wound of fear in his soul, bitter and smothering his breaths. He could feel eyes boring in him, casting fear, casting hate. Daisuke slowly turned and saw Taichi standing before him. It wasn't Taichi. He looked much like him, with the dusky hair, the orange tabard and blue pants. But the Taichi twin looked too evil. A sadistic grin was smeared across his boyish face, twisting the confident face into an immoral expression. The most fearful things about him were his eyes. They were dead, grey and cold, like cold ashes long burned out.

The dark Taichi grinned. "Hello." Then he frowned when Daisuke couldn't answer. "Well, say something."

Somehow, he knew whom the twin as, but he needed to know, wanted to get out of those dead eyes and fear aura around him. "Who are you?"

The dark Taichi gave him a mild exasperated look. "Yes, yes, I expected an obvious question like this." He then crossed his arm, standing tall and full of disdain. "I'm the Tyrant of Fear. The dark Taichi."

Daisuke remembered. Taichi and Yamato told him. Taichi and Yamato seemed timid to let him know about their other stories that they didn't tell the other New Kids. They told him that they trusted him enough to let him know about their dark selves. He recalled the haunted pain and fear in their voices as they spoke of their dark selves. The dark selves that they could become if they weren't what they were now. The dark selves that held the opposite traits. The Tyrant of Fear and the Outcast of Isolation.

"I know you . . ." Daisuke said, scowling. "What did you do to them?"

The Tyrant looked puzzled. "Them?" He idly looked behind, seeing Yamato. Daisuke was afraid; Veemon was gone, but then he could feel him nearby, hiding somewhere. "Oh, _them_." He waved a finger. "No, no, I'm only the dark Taichi.  I'm not bothering with the Guardian. The Outcast is."  Then his dead eyes somehow flared with warning.  "And, Brother of Loyalty, stay away from my brother.  I want to see him squirm."

Daisuke sharply stepped in front, sheltering the silent Taichi. "You stay back from him!"  From the corners of his vision, he could see Veemon stepping from under a bed and creeping toward the Tyrant's back. 

The Tyrant kept his bitter scowl at the younger boy.  "Listen, boy, I'm here for my revenge."  He cast a glare toward Taichi, who visibly flinched at the flare.  Even Daisuke felt the fear radiating out of it.  "The damned Master destroyed me. Destroyed me! All of us, the Dark Digidestined, want revenge for our deaths. They must know that you cannot live just in courier without fear."  The dead eyes darted over to the bronze-haired boy and the sinister grin appeared.  "Tell me, boy, do you truly know loyalty?"

The way he said it made it sounded that Daisuke was not loyal, nothing but an unfaithful traitor.  The sudden stab of offense further sparked his fury, changing his dark tawny eyes into hot, seething tar-black, the anger seething just underneath the surface.  Daisuke allowed a bitter scowl smearing on his face.  "I'm loyal.  I know it.  I won't let you hurt him."  He braced himself, his fists closed and ready.  "You have to go through me."

"Foolish boy," the dark Taichi sneered. "Do you know how powerful I am?"

Instantly, he knew that the Tyrant was trying to trick him into attacking. Daisuke's fiery spirit would be more than happy to offer his proposal, but somewhere in his mind, there was a new spirit, somehow sedate and vigilant, simply stirring calmness in his fiery spirit. Alert. Ready. Daisuke's stance seemed to change from its aflame pose into a composed air. Daisuke cast him a half-smile, the one that held shrewd ease instead of the reckless grin. "Do ahead and try. I'm not that easy for you to destroy." His breathing began to become synchronized with his heartbeat. _Beat_.

The Tyrant gave back the baneful grin. "Indeed?" _Beat_. The Tyrant swung an orange-gloved fist toward his face. _Beat_. Daisuke smoothly dodged under the swing, to his left, and darted past the body. _Beat_. He used his movement and the Tyrant's motion to heave his foot right in the Tyrant's side. He heard an inhale of pained breath as the Tyrant reacted to the kick, bowing down. In his sudden burst of pride, Daisuke turned to jeer.  _Beat_.  The triumphant expression shifted into a startled façade as the very same fist came for his face. 

Daisuke cried out in agony as the fist struck upon his head, stabbing white spasms of pain, waving through his head.  The pain was too much for him and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his head. White stars danced before his eyes, the pain nearly blacking his mind out, as he recoiled.

"Vee Head Butt!"  The voice of his Digimon rang through his inflamed head and Daisuke dared to crack his eyes open to see Veemon leaping for the Tyrant. His ruby eyes were on fire, mad.  The Tyrant moved in swift motions, almost impossible for a teenager to have, except that, of course, that he had the advantage to his power.  The Tyrant simply ducked his body and his opened hand approached toward Veemon in an orange blur.  The hand snatched upon Veemon's neck and he easily held him up in the air. The Tyrant just glanced at the blue beast before, with a bit of strength, hurled him across the room.

Veemon skid into a stop as he bumped into something.  Veemon stiffened in fear.  Someone was there, standing behind him.  His breaths quickened as he gazed upward.  A face floated in his vision, upside-down, but he identified the face immediately as the face of Yamato.  His white-streaked blonde hair darkened his face, but the very body itself was radiating with the aura of darkness. The Yamato twin had anguish and apathy in his face, his eyes half-closed, much like a hungry wolf waiting. 

The dark Yamato silently arched a blonde eyebrow and looked up to the Tyrant.

"Hey, Outcast," the Tyrant was saying, "Won't you mind keeping that nuisance busy?"

The Outcast looked back to Veemon, and the blue beast suddenly felt horrified at the heinous delight shining in the grey-blue eyes. His voice held nothing as the Outcast spoke, "My pleasure . . ." A finger twitched.  Slight movements around him captivated Veemon's intimidated attention.  At first, he thought it was just mist, and then he realized . . . it _was_ mist.  Hands made of mist . . . No . . . Mist made of hands.  He felt a bitter coldness as the hands came out from under the floor, ghoulish and diaphanous.  The hands floated toward him, as if were yearning for a warm touch.  Or urged to destroy that hateful warmth. 

"Get away!"  Veemon bewailed, waving at the hands, trying to dissolve the hands into mists.  He gasped at the chilliness.

_Loyalty_ . . . "Veemon!" Daisuke stood up, hastening to save his Digimon. Someone moved in front of him in a flash and the Tyrant pushed him away with a hand, frowning.

"I didn't ask you to be heroic."

Daisuke regained his balance and glared at him. "You hurt Veemon!"

An arch of a dusky eyebrow. "So . . . ?"

_Beat_. It happened in an instant.  His fury suddenly burst and Daisuke's fist flew out on its own. The Tyrant staggered at the force, the redness staining his surprised face.  Daisuke blanched as he realized his triumph and misfortune. He quickly stepped back, stiffening.

The dead eyes exploded with provoked blaze.  "That's your last mistake," the Tyrant snarled as an aura of flaming fire enclosed his body. "Terror of Fire!"

Despite that his mind screamed at his limbs to move, Daisuke couldn't move. _Beat_.  The beam of flames engulfed him.  He yelled, neither in despair nor in fury, but yelled out the very substance of agony.  The calming spirit in his mind was surrounding him, feeling its protection of him. He felt the heat and inferno eating on his skin and clothes.  He knew he was being burned alive, but the spirit, the protection prevented the fire, only scalding, forming raw bruises.

He collapsed on his stomach, afraid to move to harm his burns. He could smell burned flesh, feeling rather than heard the sizzling hairs and fabric. He was in such pain, couldn't speak, couldn't move, only having the strength to gaze up to Veemon. The beast was barely seen from through the misty hands. He was trembling so hard that the only sound he uttered out was an anguished whimper. The cold hands had gripped on his limbs, becoming solid and icy.

"Veemon . . ." Daisuke breathed out, his body quavering at his agony.

The dark voice of the Tyrant spoke from above, leering. "Come on, Brother, can't you do better than that? You just lay there and watch him get hurt." He then chortled with malicious amusement. "Loyal? Don't make me laugh."

"Stop." His voice was full of agony, but underneath it, there was a breath of passion, beginning to break through.

He inhaled, stifled a yell of pain as the Tyrant gave him a light but hostile kick in his side. "Shut up, boy. You cannot stop us, so just shut up."

Daisuke's wrath hissed, his eyes darkening back into tar-black, the indication of his rage boiling just under the surface. "Stop it . . ." His hearing picked up another whimper from his Digimon, and he felt strength coming back in, fueled by his anger. "Stop it!"

"Didn't I say shut up?" the Tyrant barked, glaring back downward. "You can't do anything."

"No! I am . . ." Daisuke strived to look back fiercely. He felt something new . . . The calming spirit that was only there inside him, a trace, a smidge of calmness, was suddenly full of him. Something burned inside his chest, filling with vigor, will, and most of all, loyalty. He knew who he was. He was Loyalty, desiring to protect his friends with his very life. A new power. A power that will aid him in his protection over his friends. One of the powers of the Children of the Armor.

"Loyal!" Daisuke screamed. _"Heart-Armor, Energize!"_

Underneath his shirt, his Crest of Loyalty flashed in its orange color. It was almost like the color of fire, but unlike the real colors of fire, it was the color of his spirit, his passion. The crest became burning, charring its mark upon his skin, but Daisuke didn't notice it, ignoring his other burns, surrounded in his new power of will. An aura flared outward from his body, bright blue, electric blue that glared with intensity, with rays of dark orange shining outward. 

His power expanded its armor upon him. His clothing changed into something different, the garments that represented his spirit. A tunic, colored dark blue, was clad on his upper body, its sleeves long to his wrists. Its hem reached down to his hips, giving the image of a gallant knight, along with real armor on his chest and shoulders, also dark blue. His blue pants were loose, gathered around his waist with a black belt and gathered around his ankles in calf-length black boots. Armor covered his knees and shins. A flowing, wide white cape was tied around his neck and shoulders, reaching down to his ankles, showing its majesty. His trademark goggles were gone, freeing his spiky bronze hair, its color striking against his whiteness and blueness.

His power healed his burns, regaining his energy, and he smoothly stood up in one motion, his cape swaying. His eyes were back in their tawny color, but now there was a fire behind it, burning with wrath and protection. He looked every inch as a knight, ready for battle. He had a new name. A Heart-name. Because he was chosen to keep the spirit of fire going, he was called as . . . Ember.

Ember glared over to the Tyrant, who was taken aback with shock, the dead eyes colder than before.

"You shut up," Ember spoke, his voice extraordinarily composed, despite the fire in his eyes. "I'm loyal. I promise that my friends will not get hurt when I'm here."

His aura dimmed, edging down his arms, as his fists lightly tightened, as if were going to hold something. His weapons. In his right hand, a long sword appeared colored fiery orange. Its hilt was of a dragon's head, its snout as the pommel and its finlike ears as the cross guard. In his left hand, another sword, slightly shorter and slightly arched, tinted night blue, like a sword made of the night sky. Like the fire sword, its hilt was made of a wolf's head, its snout as the pommel and the cross guard was made of its flat ears. The fire and night blades glistened as if by a hidden light, slightly touching his face. 

A flash of the night blade. The face of the Tyrant reflected off the blade. Ember directed the tip toward his enemy, his eyes narrowed.

_"Don't you dare to hurt Veemon."_

Ember made a sharp motion. Another flash of the dim light leaped from his fire blade. He moved in such swiftness that the Tyrant tensed, seeing nothing but a blue and white haze. He felt a breeze hissing past him, his tabard swaying, and then a slight pain ignited in his chest. He clutched on his chest, looking down. His tabard was cut by the fire blade, the slash cutting through the Crest of Fear's symbol in half. Anger Flaring, he glared over to Ember, who was standing at the other side, already ready.

"You bastard!" The fire aura flared and the Tyrant sharply cast a fireball. Ember sidestepped, barely tensing in defense. It appeared that he was determined to harm him for calling him disloyal. Seriously. How seriously? The Tyrant didn't intend to find out. He didn't look forward to be defeated by this . . . youngster, this wannabe. 

Ember watched as the dark Taichi summoned a fire sword, a blade made of true fire. A mockery. Ember will show him who the loyal one around here was. The Tyrant leaped, holding his fire sword ready, eagerness sparking in his eyes. Ember may have two swords to defend himself, but the Tyrant was using real fire and was much stronger than him. He recalled the agony he suffered from the fire. 

Ember also leaped forward, but only to meet the fire sword with his night blade. Flames burst at the impact and he squinted to avoid the fire from coming in his eyes. He never understood how come that he was able to fight with blades, but he felt it coming naturally, parrying, thrusting, slashing, feinting, and evading, using the wolf-hilted and dragon-hilted blades to both defend and fight. His mind was fully engulfed in his willpower to protect his friends. He'd never felt so confident, so brave, and so sincere. He did want to protect him friends. He can't imagine himself without his friends. He cherished every friendship he had from everybody and that made him hungry for his/her friendship. He wanted to protect them.

He must stop the Tyrant.

Ember dodged from another slash of the fire sword, and then he pushed toward the Tyrant, the night blade aimed. As he expected so, the Tyrant dodged from the thrash. Ember tried to control his impulse from stumbling down. He could hear the Tyrant's leering grin in his voice as he spoke, "Now, you pest –"

_Last mistake._ Ember whirled, using his force to chuck the night blade right in the dark Taichi's chest. The Tyrant widened his eyes in shock, the dead eyes almost brightened with pain. 

"Shut up," Ember hissed calmly as the Tyrant dissolved into pixels, as would a deleted Digimon. The night blade also dissolved, returned to his hidden aura. There was a light groan from his Protector, and he instantly wanted to go to his side to help. Yet, he stood still. Somehow, he wasn't horrified at the fact that he actually killed a human. The Tyrant wasn't a human at all, but still, he was slightly aghast, felt like that he killed one of his Protectors, despite that it was only his dark self. Still, there was no time to muse over this. There was the Outcast to defeat.

The dark tawny eyes glared over to the Outcast, who simply watched the fight with boring amusement. 

Ember's voice spoke, "Leave him."

The cold, ghostly hands bristled, as if were ordered by his commanding voice, and faded into mist, then that diminished away, as well. Veemon remained unmoving; his breaths quiet and quavering, his eyes pale and haunted. The sight of his Digimon in anguish angered him, and Ember stepped closer.

The Outcast, now frowning, waved a hand, which was glowing with a night-blue aura, the night without stars to lighten. A ball of energy, almost visible, burst out. Ember sharply held up a hand and almost instantly, a circular blue-colored shield, unfolding outward from within his hand, growing larger and larger until it seemed to fill his vision. He felt the force of the energy ball striking on the shield. He knew that the ball had no power to break down his shield, and he summoned it away. 

The Outcast appeared uninterested, but aggravation was in his eyes. "Face it, boy. You can't have one without other. If you destroy me, I will still be here, no matter what."

"Enough of that," Ember snapped. "Don't you ever hurt my friends."

"I don't care. You cannot kill us. We are always here. We are part of you and we will not leave."

Nostrils flaring, Ember strode closer. The Outcast harshly gestured. Instantly, the ghost hands appeared and captured on Ember, the cold fingers curling around his ankles and arms. Though, the iciness, the hostility flamed his fury. Ember's lips tightened into a flat line, his eyes suddenly darkened into the tar black color, almost flashing with his inner light. His hands clenched around the dragon-headed hilt.

_Swoosh!_ The fire blade slashed through the air, slightly diagonally, with a shushing sound. The shushing sound suddenly hushed as the blade smoothly cut through the Outcast's body. His body was nothing but butter as the blade severed from his left side, upward to his right shoulder, cutting him in half. The halves almost squeaked as they slid against each other, the top half sliding off. The Outcast had the shocked expression as he quietly dissolved into pixels. As he dissolved, the Guardian gave out a brief pained inhale. 

Ember exhaled. He defeated them. He protected his Protectors . . .

Taichi putted a hand on his head, gently. His head wasn't throbbing or even in pain. It was like he was half-asleep, half-aware of his surroundings. He thought that he saw a teenager with his face and a blue-clothed boy with two swords. He wasn't sure of himself and he sat up, clearing his vision. Right in front of his gaze, a boy strode toward him, clad in strange clothing of night blue and bright white. He carried a long sword, its blade a strange shade of fiery orange.

Taichi didn't tense up, only watching in mild awe and puzzlement as the boy knelt by him. His voice was brash and gentle, "Tai? Are you alright?"

The Master blinked. "Davis?"

Somehow, a shimmer engulfed the boy – Daisuke – a bold orange shimmer that changed his appearance. His armor was gone. The sword was gone. Even the white cape was gone, leaving the boy in his blue garments. The Crest of Loyalty was dimly glowing with the bold orange light. The goggles were back on his head, pushing back his bronze hair. There was . . . freshness in his eyes, Taichi noticed. Something courageous and friendly . . . Loyalty_ . . _.

Daisuke grinned. "Yeah, it's me." Then great concern came in his face. "Are you alright?"

Taichi was taken back and only nodded in answer. Daisuke also nodded, as if in approval, stood, and went to the other corner of the room, where Taichi noticed a dazed Yamato sitting. Veemon remained with Taichi and he didn't say anything, equally surprised. Taichi stood up, regaining his bearings. He tried to figure what had happened. He deemed that he did see his twin. He never forgot the ash-cold eyes, the sadistic grin on his identical face, and the aura of fear. 

He felt a nudge on his pant leg and he looked down. Veemon was holding something in his paws, looking puzzled. Taichi knelt down, wondering what the blue beast wanted and noticed something strikingly familiar. In Veemon's paws, two dolls grinned back. One looked so alike to him, with his orange tabard, blue pants, and the confident grin. The other was Yamato's twin, along with his blue mantle, green pants, and the half-smile that looked often like a smirk. 

The dolls . . . Taichi inhaled through his closed teeth. Puppetmon's dolls. He thought they were gone! He thought they were destroyed . . . How did that happen . . .? He took a close look at the doll to make sure if he was wrong. The doll was different, yes, but he remembered that there was strange warmth from the body when he first held it, like it was alive. The dolls were used by Puppetmon to control the Digidestined's bodies. 

Something odd was going on here.

"Daisuke," Taichi firmly spoke, looking up, standing. Daisuke was returning with Yamato, who was gaining his awareness. After he let Yamato sit down, Daisuke sharply looked back at his full name, and Taichi noticed that there was the calm gaze, hiding the fiery passion. 

"Yes, Tai?" the boy simply asked.

"Tell us what happened."

Daisuke glanced down to Yamato and said, "Matt went in some anxiety breakdown, and I had to encourage you to overcome your fear of heights. Here . . ." He took a sharp gaze around, slightly frowning. "I met the Tyrant and the Outcast."

Taichi knew it. He exhaled out a soft breath as Yamato gazed at Daisuke with a disbelieved expression.

"What?! You saw them?" Yamato said.

Daisuke nodded. "I remembered what you told them. That was them." There was a twinge of sympathy in his tawny eyes and Taichi suddenly felt proud of him that he showed understanding.

Yamato stood up, now lightly frowning with his trademark glower. He glanced around and asked, "Davis, what happened to them?"

Daisuke almost visibly flinched and lowered his gaze. "I . . . killed them."

"Killed them? How?"

"With my power." Daisuke gazed back, shrugging with a mixed expression of awareness and puzzlement. "I don't know how did this happen. I was so angry that anybody would dare to hurt me friends that . . . I don't know . . ." His fingers curled around the crest dangling from his neck. "My crest burned and something inside me popped. I suddenly know I have a power and I know how to use it."

Yamato seemed to be surprised and gazed over to Taichi. The Master, though, didn't have the surprised expression. He met the bronze-haired boy's gaze with a certain look. "Show us."

Daisuke responded immediately with the flaring of his new aura. Taichi arched his eyebrows in surprise, feeling the strong protection in the bright blue aura with orange rays shining outward. As the aura appeared, the new clothing also appeared, the white cape seeming to flow down from his back, along with shoulder pads and shin pads. The goggles were gone, and in his hands, two swords sparkled penetratingly, one fiery orange and other as dark blue as the night.

Taichi stared at the swords with awe. A sudden thought appeared in his head and he simply called out his ward's name. Not to his surprise, the name came out differently. "Ember." Taichi grinned, immediately know what the name was. "Ember is your Heart-Name."

Ember was bewildered. "Heart-Name?"

"We will explain it later."

Ember simply nodded and returned his power back. Daisuke appeared serious as he scanned the room with discontentment. There was the tone of grimness in his voice. "I think we need to get out of here."

"How?" Yamato questioned. "The doors and windows are locked."

The boy shook his head. "This is not real. I don't know how I know, but I do know that this place is just a memory. The place you remember."

Taichi wasn't going to argue. Getting out and finding their friends were more important than musing over the fact that they were in a memory. "How can we get out of here, anyway?"

"This is how," Daisuke said, grinning, as his crest glowed brighter. The bold orange light illuminated the boys and Veemon, and suddenly, a faint glow appeared in the air. It seemed that the glow itself was radiating from within the air, breaking through the edges of the air. A hole seemed to open up within the glow, the lines of the orange light spreading out in size. There was a landscape from behind the hole, making it seemed like the glow opened another dimension. A dark grey-sanded beach was there, black waves crashing upon the shoreline, and two shelves rising high into the cloudy sky. Two lighthouses stood on them, a white one and a black one, shining out the lights of the same color, respectively.

"What's this place?" Taichi demanded. The sight made him think of what his sister told him, another world, with a dark ocean and the creepy feeling from within . . . Strangely, he felt nothing but calmness, certainty from the beach.

"A place where we will find our friends and be safe," it was the younger boy's answer.

'Are you sure, Davis?" Veemon finally spoke out, uneasy. "The place is not normal . . ."

Daisuke was silent, watching the beach, and then turned to his friends. "If we don't go out, we will be trapped here. We have to leave."

Yamato made a sharp nod, the pleading look in his face. "Yes, we have to leave . . ." 

Taichi understood; Yamato still felt the pains of the ghosts wandering in the playhouse. He himself didn't want to spend another minute in the mad Digimon's home. He nodded to Daisuke. "Go ahead, Brother."

Daisuke grinned and he looked the same to the old boy with his recklessness and daring. As he stepped through the hole, Taichi exchanged gazes with Yamato and they smiled. The Master and the Guardian were proud of their Brother.

***

There was a terrible coldness around him, its icy fangs _sinking _themselves into his bare skin like needles. The bites sent thousands of stinging shivers and he felt like he was bleeding of the cold. He couldn't feel anything, nothing except for the cold, which seemed to a part of him. Somehow, he could _see _the cold in his mind's eye, glaring white and deep, deep blue, like a winter sky at nighttime. The whiteness and blueness were around him, hugging him, clutching him, caressing him. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that the cold was killing him and yet he almost let himself go, surrender himself in the cold, just hoping that maybe if he could give up, the cold would show mercy and end its pain.

" . . . Michael . . ."

A voice. It was too dissonant. It sounded like it was voicing his name, and he didn't know that it was his name. All he was aware of was the cold, blanketing him and deafening him from the voices. He could _hear _nothing but the stinging. He could feel nothing but the iciness. He could see nothing but the whiteness and blueness. 

"Michael? Can you hear me?"

_Who are you . . .? Why you called me? I can't answer back. I can't. So cold . . . too cold . . ._

For a brief moment, something touched him and he was aware of that. He felt something solid, in the middle of the cold haze, holding him, supporting him. He almost screamed, mostly in relief, because the solidity radiated warmth. The warmth that again stung his skin and bones and soul. The warmth that softly caressed around him. He thankfully cuddled himself in the warmth.

"Michael, wake up."

It was a different voice and a familiar one. He tried to answer back. It was like the cold finally letting him go, leaving its fangs out and its arms from around him. But the bites were still there, the feeling still there. His body began to shake from the aftereffects of the warm cold. His teeth chattered, and he slowly opened his ice-blue eyes.

The face of Frankie appeared in his vision. The older boy looked deeply anxious, his hazel eyes darkened. His voice was thick, as if he was speaking in a choking fog. "You have to stay awake, Michael. I can't let you get frozen."

Michael weakly exhaled and saw his breath came out in white wisps. The cold was back, touching where the warmth forgot to protect, again sinking its fangs. His lips barely formed the words when his teeth slowed down in their shakes. "B-b-but it's s-s-so c-cold."

"I know it, boy," Frankie nodded. His eyes darted down to his hand, which was holding tight on Michael's arm. "You will be fine."

Almost abruptly, Michael felt something odd. He felt like the cold was being sucked out from his body. Its fangs were forcedly removed. It was like a cold blanket was being yanked off from over him, and suddenly, he felt the warmth surging in his body, eager to warm him up.

Michael's eyes were wide and he looked up to his Protector. "How did you . . . ?"

Frankie appeared slightly wearied, but he grinned back. "I can take coldness out of bodies, as I did to you. It won't make you warmer, but at least, you are not shivering."

Michael sat up, puzzled at the possibility to taking away the coldness. Nevertheless, he was glad he wasn't cold anymore. He then rested a hand on his Digimon's head, seeing the strong concern in his ruby eyes and letting him know that he was all right. He glanced around his surroundings. He was perplexed; it was not the same place he was at. The last place he remembered was at the battle where he and the other Digidestined fought Vampdevimon. They were too weak, vulnerable by the last attack of the Vampire. He was unconscious, then, felt nothing, and recalled nothing after that. Have he been moved by someone? By Frankie? Where was everybody else?

He, Frankie, and Betamon were in a middle of a forest, and the forest looked much like Central Park at Christmas time. Snow was everywhere, covering the trees, ground, and bushes like a gigantic thick blanket. The only other colors were Michael, Frankie, and Betamon. The fish was dark green with red fins and he stood out in the white background. Frankie and Michael wore mostly white and almost mingled into the background, despite Michael's red-striped blue shirt and Frankie's orange shirt and pants.

And it was cold. Very cold. Michael felt like he was in Antarctica without a parka, and Michael began to rub his arms. "How did it get so cold?" Michael questioned. "It wasn't cold earlier."

Frankie nodded, intently gazing around. There was a light grimace on his face, the orange streak in his russet hair glaringly against the snow. "It's a kind of strange coldness. It's not natural."

Michael gazed back. "But, Frankie, I thought you can control coldness." If he can do so, he can make the coldness go away. Michael was freezing. He pouted at the older boy's ability to resist the cold. He wasn't even shivering!

"Yes, I can," Frankie answered to his question. "What I'm saying is that this coldness is not natural. I can feel it and it's all wrong."

Michael tilted his head in curiosity. He knew that Frankie told him all about his power and the abilities, such as control ice and coldness. He wondered at how Frankie, a mischievous and spirited boy, could control ice, nature's heartless element. It didn't seem fitting to Michael. Frankie was too warm and eager in his heart.  

The blonde then thought about the ability of feeling the cold. "What is it like, feeling coldness as you do?"

Frankie replied, "It feels the opposite from what you feel. When you feel cold, I feel warm. Like when you are under snow, you feel warm."

"It's quite amazing," Michael said. Then something awakened in his mind, reminding of him of something. Michael fell silent, remembering about his other power. His other power. No one, except for his friends in New York, knew that he actually had another power, just like the powers of the Old Kids. He could feel the vastness, the timelessness of it inside his chest and mind, making him feeling old and young at the same time. In his mind's eye, he could see the colors of dark violet and ice blue, his aura, his colors. 

He pondered over this. He knew that he and his friends promised not to reveal any evidence of their powers because, of course, having an unnatural power when anyone else have no absolute ability to control was bizarre. They believed it was too dangerous to even let their parents to know, so they kept their powers a secret. But then when he found out that there was other Digidestined who had similar powers, Michael began to wonder if it was meant to be. Would every Digidestined have a similar power? If so, why? Michael was determined to keep his power a secret from the Japanese Digidestined, but he was told by Sleet, his Protector that the New Kids will have their own powers, as well as he. 

Should he tell them about his other power? 

"Betamon, can you handle the coldness?" Frankie's voice broke through his thoughts.

Betamon grinned back. "I'm immune to the cold, so I'm fine." 

"Good."  Frankie glanced to Michael. "Ready? Let's go and find the others."

The boys and the fish took a long stride down a hidden path, hopefully the path to the others they had been separated from. Michael took his time observing the surroundings; everywhere he saw were white. The sky was very clear, striking blue. It looked almost unusual for a snow environment. Seeing nothing else that might show evidence of his friends, Michael gazed around to Frankie. He was amazed with the self-confidence in the russet-haired boy. There were protection and determination in him. Frankie wasn't afraid at all. Michael felt a bit of pride to have him as his Protector.

Michael cleared his throat to get Frankie's attention. "Frankie, I want to thank you for helping me stay warm. If it wasn't for you, I would have gotten frozen."

Frankie glanced over his shoulder, grinning with both his mouth and hazel eyes. His eyes _always _smiled, rarely scowled. "You are a good friend to me. I won't let anything hurt you." His voice became firm, serious. "I never let my friends get hurt."

Michael blinked and asked, "Are your friends that important to you?" He was curious; he knew he had strong protection over friends, but mainly as a big brother. Frankie seemed to be a guardian, watcher over his friends. 

Frankie's face went soft and his eyes half-closed as if was thinking of past moments. "Well, I was an orphan since I was nine, and so I didn't have any contacts with my old family and the friends I knew weren't as special as I thought so. The best and only friend I had was Joe. I valued and respected him, and I know I will be there for him anytime." The satisfied smile appeared. "Now that I got new friends, I learned that having friends make me who I am. Friends are valuable to me, and without them, I wouldn't be me."

Michael was quiet for a while, considering the powerful friendship he heard in Frankie's words. He knew he met Frankie only for a short time, but already, by some strange reason, Michael felt safe around Frankie. The first time he met him was the fourth reunion, which happened just recently. Oh, he had seen him before, already knew that he was his Protector, but not really met him in person. The first thing Michael noticed about Frankie was the protection radiating from him. It was strong. He immediately felt safe around him. It was a nice feeling, and Michael felt like that he can be a friend to him. 

Michael's voice was quiet, almost shy. "Do you consider me as a friend?"

There was a merry laugh from Frankie and his eyes sparkled as he gazed back. "You are, of course! You have a strong, merciful soul. Reminds me of me. You value friendship as much as I do, though with different reasons."

Michael glanced down to Betamon, who was bouncing by his side. The fish's ruby eyes met his gaze, seeming to know what he was thinking. _'Not very different from what you think,' Michael_ mentally whispered to himself, thought of the experience he was forced to live through. He then said, "Frankie, what if you have to hurt a friend? Have to fight them?"

Frankie was suddenly quiet, almost worried as he gazed back. "Well . . ." He thought for a moment, appearing solemn. "Well, if it will help them, yes, I would have to."

Michael flinched almost noticeably. It wasn't the answer he was expecting. 

"Why do you ask?" the Keeper asked. "Would you fight a friend if you have to?"

The Patron bit his lip before answering, " . . . No, but only with mercy, I will."

Frankie sounded puzzled and he slowed down in his tracks, watching the blonde carefully. "_'With mercy?'_ Of course, you will show mercy. Is there another way?"

"I never want to fight," Michael honestly said, his ice blue eyes somewhat darkening.

"It's alright if you don't want -"

"No, that's what I mean," Michael cut him off. He stared at his Protector for a while, totally surprised at the twinge of jealousy of Frankie's self-confidence. Michael wished he could have guts enough to explain about his fear. "I mean . . . I had bad experiences that caused my fear of hurting friends. I hate to hurt. I hate to fight." His voice, which was rising with controlled fury, now cooled down, "I just don't want to fight."

The Keeper didn't say anything, now watching him silently. There was mixed worry and sympathy in his face, his hazel eyes full of honest care. Somehow, he knew how to respond, not saying the wrong words, and Michael again felt safe around him, feeling that he can trust him. Then Frankie softly spoke, " . . . Someday, you might have to."

Michael said nothing, lowering his gaze.

Frankie stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. Michael saw the reassuring grin. "Michael, you don't have to worry about this now." Frankie then gazed around, new apprehension in his face. "First, we need to find our friends, and then get out of here. I don't like this place."

Michael also gazed around, but found nothing threatening. "Why?"

"It doesn't feel right. It feels empty." Frankie frowned, nodding to the puzzled Michael and Betamon. "It does look real, yes, but it has the feeling of emptiness. No soul."

_No soul?_ It was new to Michael. Does it mean the place has no life to it? It looked real to Michael. He moved around in his place, keenly, trying to find something that Frankie noticed about the lifelessness of the forest.

The blonde gasped as a sudden force was struck on his back. It wasn't strong, but just enough to startle his heart in rapid thumping. "Ow! Hey!" He whirled around in reflex, glaring up at where the force was coming from. He saw nothing but snow branches.

"What's the matter, Michael?" Betamon asked, seeing the perplexed frown on his child's face.

"Something hit me," Michael responded, looking down for something that might be the source of the strike. He then stared at a hailstone on the ground. A hailstone. A hailstone? 

Frankie also stared at it. "It's odd . . ." He glanced upward. "There is no storm . . ."

Michael rubbed his back. "It hurts, anyway."

"Hey . . ." Betamon voiced, looking tense. "Is it me or is it getting much colder . . ."

"Yeah, I notice that," Frankie agreed.

The coldness again bit in his skin, and Michael rubbed his bare arms for warmth. It was strange; he could feel the coldness moving like winds, but there were no winds at all. The invisible coldness seemed to wrap around Michael, holding him in its icy arms. Michael was forced to keep his jaws locked shut from chattering. As Frankie cautiously scanned around, Michael suddenly felt something. A presence. A presence in the very existence of time. He can't feel where it was, but he can tell when it was, and it was present. At the very moment. Unmoving, but he felt it. He can sense movements in time, sensing the _when_, not _where_, and he just sensed that there was someone nearly. Now.

"Frankie," Michael hissed to him, "there is someone with us."

Frankie watched him with sharp bewilderment. "How can you tell?"

Michael opened his mouth, and then shut it, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to tell about his other power. "I . . . I feel him."

"Hmm . . ." The answer seemed to satisfy him, and he nodded. "You are right. There is someone here. Dangerous."

"What can we do?"

The Keeper took one watchful step back and murmured one word. "Leave."

As if the presence heard him and wasn't pleased, spikes of ice suddenly shot downward from above, like icicles thrown by an upset god. Michael gasped as he barely dodged a long icicle that stabbed a few inches away from his feet.

_"RUN!" _Frankie yelled. He even pushed him on his back for emphasis.

Michael quickly hoisted Betamon in his arms, knowing that the slow fish will not dodge icicles. Frankie easily dodged the icicles, using his sense of danger to know where and when the icicles come. If Michael weren't so lucky to have his other power, he would end up with spikes in his body by now. He summoned on his power, only enough not to have his aura appearing and not to make it noticeable. With his power, he can tell _when _the danger was coming and sensed it carefully, sidestepping or ducking whenever he felt the icicles aiming for him. 

While the boys dodged, they ran as fast as they could, darting past bare trees. The icicles seemed to lessen in numbers, widely missing them, and Michael almost slowed down, his curiosity urging him to look back to find the attacker when -

His feet met ice. The ground instantly became a lake of blackish-grey ice. It was so smooth, so flat, that at the very moment when he stepped on it, Michael went into a wild slide, trying to keep balance. Frankie was surprised, as well, yelling out as he tumbled down. Michael crashed several feet away, hitting his head. He groaned, his hold loosing on Betamon, and he laid there, rubbing his head. In his vision, Frankie was struggling to stand up, his feet firm, and suddenly, by an instant, he sharply gazed up.

A blur crashed into him. The blur of white and orange was so fast that Michael couldn't see it coming. Frankie fell hard and laid there still, his face haggard with pain, unconscious.

"Frankie!" Michael yelled, staggering up to an unstable stand, trying to move toward his Protector. He didn't understand what happened next. In the moment, he saw nothing but the laying Frankie before him, and then the next moment, he saw Frankie standing just right in front.

"Uh-uh, you can't do that."

Michael froze at the voice. The voice was not of Frankie's, not playful, not friendly. Yet it was of his, but with a different tone, a different _essence _to it. It sounded dark, malicious. The blonde looked up to his face and exhaled in a breath through clenched teeth. Frankie was standing there, but it was not Frankie at all. The person looked exactly like Frankie in appearance and facade, but there was something . . . dark in the hazel eyes. There was dark pleasure in them. There was a sinister grin on the mouth. Michael remembered what Frankie told him about his adventures four years ago. The story that seemed to recall the haunted pain in Frankie's face. His other self. His dark self.

The Dark Frankie.

The dark Frankie looked mockingly ashamed as he shook his head to himself. "Oh, didn't I introduce myself? Hmm, how impolite of me." The voice held obvious gibe that it enjoyed to show. "I'm the Assassin of Nothing. The Dark Keeper, you know?" The Assassin placed a hand on his chest and bowed with mock grace. "Pleased to meet you, my boy."

"I'm not your boy," Michael snapped, fists clenched. Somehow, he could see himself in the Assassin, showing his cruelty and heartlessness he was haunted with some years ago. 

The Assassin seemed to be pleased with the youngster's tension, but he didn't show the notice. He took a long gaze at him, as if was studying him.  "I know who you are.  You are the Keeper's little ward, the Patron, aren't you?"  His lips curled with scorn.  "It's the problem with the Keeper.  He has a soft heart for his friends and I'm _sickened _of it."  He hissed the word with disgust, even shuddered.  "I'm sickened of his compassion, his faith, his _soul_.  His soul is so full of life that I'm revolted of it."  He then narrowed his eyes in interest toward Michael, and then grinned.  "But, boy, you don't have much of a soul.  You have no compassion."

The words stung through his mental shield and woke up his other side. Michael's ice-blue eyes hardened into cold steel-grey, blazing with cold fire. His face steeled into an expression of wounded disdain. "How dare you say that about me. You know nothing about me," Michael growled. He knew what would happen. The Assassin will mock him, and Michael had to remind him that he wasn't anything like him. He was changed, finally changed.

The Assassin rolled his eyes in exasperation. "It's true." He muttered to himself, his eyes turning to see the unconscious Frankie. The cruel grin appeared, and he spoke, not looking back, "I ask you to stay back. I want to avenge my death on my sweet brother."

Before he could make a step forward, Michael warned, "Stay away from him." When the Assassin glared back, Michael resisted the urge to flinch, but continued, "What are you talking about, your revenge?"

The Assassin looked no longer as the sinister, scornful Frankie, but now as the real Assassin, calm and cold-blooded. He sounded upset as he answered, "He destroyed me. I'm part of him. I'm the 'bad' Frankie, the Frankie that he could've became if he has no soul. He destroyed me. He must know that I'm always part of him, no matter how often he kills me." His hazel eyes almost froze with colder-than-coldest ice. "I want my revenge."

Suddenly, the protection and friendship he has for his Protector burst out. "No! Don't hurt him!" Michael yelled almost pleadingly. He then stepped forward, in desperate hopes that the Assassin would stop for an instant and not destroy him in that moment.

Somehow, in the very moment, the Assassin took an annoyed sigh, turned around, and lazily gestured toward the blonde. In midair, an icicle was formed out of nothing, its tip aimed toward him. Then it moved forward, like an arrow strung from an invisible bow, hissing through the air. Michael paused, his mind a blank.

"Electric Shock!"

Betamon's attack leaped out from his red head fin and struck upon the icicle. It exploded, the pieces flying outward, falling on Michael's shirt harmlessly. Betamon glared over to the Assassin, his fangs bared. "No one touches my boy!" With a powerful bounce, he pounced after the Assassin. The Assassin sidestepped and backhanded a strike on Betamon. The fish cried out with pain and he crashed beside Frankie, harmed.

Michael rushed around the Assassin and stood in front of the vulnerable friends, his arms widespread as a shield. His face begged mercy as he said, "Please! Show mercy!"

The Assassin seemed surprised at the word, his face slowly scowling. " . . . What did you just say? Show mercy? Boy, don't you realize that _I'm_ the Assassin? I show nothing. I feel nothing, feel nothing for you weaklings. I have no soul!" Then the sadistic grin appeared. "You know nothing about mercy."

Again, Michael's eyes blazed with cold fire, his arms lowered. "Don't you say I didn't know mercy. I know what is like to hurt someone without mercy. I learned it the hard way." He dared to scowl back, showing every bit of his fury. "Show us mercy."

The Assassin growled warningly. "How dare you order me." His right fist began to glow white, as bright as the sunlight upon snow and yet as dark as black ice.

Michael braced himself, prepared to use his power, surrendering to it. Instead . . . instead, he felt something new. It was like when he got his power. Something sparked inside his chest, filling him with warmth, stability, and power. He could feel it, its protection, its safeguard. Armor. It was bursting out, wanting to get out and do its duty. It was . . . a new power. One of the powers of the Children of the Armor. He was an Armor Child, no longer a Reality Child.

In the incredible slowness of the moment, he heard the Assassin shouting out, "_Silence of Ice!" _The words were slow, stretched in time. 

His power erupted from within, filling him with power and strength and security, and Michael bellowed out_, "Heart-Armor, Energize!"_

His Crest of Mercy blazed out in the colors of ice blue. It become scorching, like a sizzling metal, burning its mark upon his chest, yet leaving no smoke or ugly blisters. Michael didn't notice the pain, his mind and soul full engulfed in his new power. An aura flared around him, taking in every inch of his presence, as dark as violet, as dark as twilight, as rays of pale blue, like the light of ice winking from within, shone outward, sharp and brief.

He felt something solid coming out from under his skin. They were much like ancient armor that medieval knights wore. The plates seemed to be formed under his skin and now were sliding out from hidden openings. It was like the plates were _part _of him, wriggling out from under his skin and resting over, finally wakened by his new power and ready to do their duty. They were colored dark violet with white outlines, like twilight and snow, perfectly covering his limbs, torso, hands, feet, and head, covering everything except for his face. His helmet was amazing; it was created to appear as a head of a grizzly bear, its metal fangs shading over his face. A face guard hid his lower face, allowing only his eyes to gaze out, the blazes of ice glaring at the frozen enemy before him.

He looked every inch as a violet-colored paladin, mighty and radiating nobility. He had a new name. A Heart-Name. Because he was delicate and durable in mind and heart, he was called as . . . Glass. 

Still, in the slowness of the moment, as the beam of ice came from him, Glass smoothing held out an opened hand. At his command, a wide shield, like a knightly shield, unfolded from within his hand, spreading wide and wide until the violet shield with the white lines were larger than his body.

The ice crashed on the shield, but Glass didn't even flinch or stagger at the force. It was like he had the very strength of his soul protecting him. Nothing can break through his armor. The ice continued breaking, unable to break through the shield, scattered upon the ground. Glass removed the shield, the shield sucking back in his hand, and he stood there, glaring at the Assassin.

The Assassin was shocked, disbelieved at the sight. 'It can't be!"

Glass quietly clenched his left hand and summoned his weapon. His heart's weapon. The aura crept down his arm, the hand seeming to hold something unseen. The aura appeared to fill in the hold and it took in the shape of a large mace, resting easily in his ready hand. The aura now revealed a silver-colored mace, its rod deep grey, as long as his arm, and its head was dull ridges, raised from the top in horizontal rows, ending up with a round ball in the middle of the ridges. The handle was wrapped with black leather, perfect for tight gripping without slipping off. A deadly weapon to use if a wielder knows how to use, and Glass _knew _how.

The paladin's eyes narrowed and his voice spoke out from behind the mask, not even muffled, "I told you to show mercy." The mace screamed as Glass abruptly swung in the air toward the Assassin. It came in a silver blur, and the Assassin swerved from it, barely, his wide eyes darting at wherever the silver blur could be. Glass's gaze didn't waver, passion blazing. Midst, the Assassin cast out icicles, shields of ice, anything that he can summon, but with his strength, Glass easily smashed them down. When the ice struck on his body, the armor was unbreakable, protecting its wearer.

Glass moved smoothly, his body moving in perfect synchronization with the mace. While Michael had a grace to him, a grace that added to his charm, Glass had a new grace, a grace that added to his strength, a grace that radiated the fury burning in him. The Assassin acknowledged the grace, and he knew that he couldn't stop it. For the first time, fear appeared in his face. He tried to evade from the swings, but in the brief instant, he exposed his back, being vulnerable. Glass silently smashed his mace on his back.

The Assassin gave out a pained scream that stabbed in the air, and he collapsed, wincing. He was lucky; Glass had no desire to kill him, but his fury was enough to show such pain he wished to bestow upon the Assassin. The Assassin gasped with a struggling breath, rolling over to his back. He stared up to the incoming Glass, his hands gripping the mace, low and ready.

"Please . . ." The words barely came out from his tightly clenched teeth. "Show mercy . . ."

The Patron paused in his tracks, not confused, not hesitant, but willing. He cocked his head, the blue eyes observing him fixedly. "What do you ask of me?"

The Assassin hesitated, trying to take another breath, despite the surging pain. "Mercy."

"You want me to show mercy to you? When you showed nothing to me?" There was no scorn in the voice, only a question.

The Assassin slowly nodded. The corners of his lips slightly twitched into a deceitful smile. 

Somehow, Glass didn't notice it. He lowered his mace and said, "Then leave. Bother us no more." He turned aside, turning his back to him, striding toward his Protector.

The Assassin crouched up, his gaze suddenly hateful. In his hand, a long ice spear formed, almost hissed in the air. "Fool," he whispered, and then he heaved the spear toward Glass.

Instantly, the paladin whirled around and held up a hand, using his other power. The spear froze, suspended in midair, its point almost a few inches away from his chest. Time was frozen in place. His body unmoving, Glass moved his gaze to meet the horrified gaze of the Assassin. "You didn't show us mercy," he calmly said. In a quick motion, he grabbed on the spear, time unfrozen, and he thrust the spear through the Assassin. The Assassin inhaled a hiss, his face now disbelieved. Slowly, his body dissolved, like a body of Digimon, white pixels appearing, floating, and then vanishing into nothing.

In the silence, Glass heard his Protector groaning from behind, but he didn't go to help. Instead, he stood in place, his eyes staring at the place where the former Assassin stood. Something was there, the remains of the dark Digidestined.  A doll, just the right size to lay on his palm, was there, looking every inch like the Keeper with his white coat and orange pants. Its grin was fixed, its beady eyes staring back. Glass crouched down, curling his fingers around the doll. It felt warm, soft. Standing up, he observed the doll. He noticed that there was something different about it. The doll had a hole in his stomach. The same place where Glass speared the Assassin. 

Glass was suddenly anxious, not sure why he felt that way. He then gazed back to where Frankie was. The older boy was awake, looking haggard, but otherwise all right. He stood up, picking up the slightly hurt Betamon. Frankie seemed to try to figure out what just happened and was gazing at Glass, almost amazed at the sight.

Mentally, the paladin called away his power, and the armor vanished, creeping back under his skin, the helm, greaves, breastplates, every piece gone. His weapon was engulfed by his aura, disappeared, if as the weapon wasn't real and only was part of his aura. As he gazed downward, he could see that he was no longer clad in his 'American' clothing. His power must have given his new garments that reflected his strength and knight-like grace. He wore a tabard, much like Taichi's, this time it was in a different coloring and size. The tabard was cut short to his knees and was dyed dark twilight, along with white hem. His pants were loose and comfortable, also dark purple with white lining down the sides, along with black boots and a white shirt underneath. The dark clothing was striking and almost elegant against his blonde curly hair and pale blue eyes. Michael wasn't surprised at his clothing; somewhere in his mind, it was meant to be. It was part of his power, part of his appearance.

He gazed upward, again feeling anxious, as Frankie strode forward, a serious expression on his face. "Frankie, I -"

Frankie smiled, not the playful one, but the understanding one. "It's okay," he assured him. "You showed mercy after all."

He gently gave Betamon to Michael, and the younger boy took him, holding him protectively. He was glad to have the body of the fish in his arms, helping him feel safe. Frankie glanced over to the spot where his dark self was and grimaced. " . . . So . . . That was really the Assassin you fought. I thought I'd never see him again."

Michael also glanced back, then to him, his face awaiting an answer. Frankie quietly nodded. "When we were trapped here, yes. On my first adventure, I faced the evil Frankie, already. Even though that the other kids had been through much more than I did, I was changed the same." His voice softened. "Perhaps, it was because of him."

"So you did hear us," Michael said.

"Most of it."

"Why didn't you help me?"

 Frankie gazed calmly at him, seeming to watch him with thoughtfulness. "I want to see if you can handle it. I could've helped, yes, but I want to see . . . if you can. See if you can fight with mercy."

The blonde watched back in silence, and then asked softly, "Did I pass it?"

Frankie flashed his playful grin, but this time, there was pride in it. "You don't need to prove it. I'm glad you did."

Michael felt like he was the younger brother whose older brother found pride for being his brother, and he smiled back with shy pleasure. He then recalled of the doll and held it up for Frankie to see it. "I found it after I killed him," he said as Frankie took the doll in his hands.

Frankie turned the doll, scanning it, great puzzlement in his face. "I never see this before . . ." Vague realization dawned in his eyes. "Maybe . . . "

"Maybe what?" Michael questioned. 

Frankie bit on his lips and shook his head. "I don't know."

Michael lightly frowned, not at Frankie's puzzlement, but at the _feeling _nagging in his mind. It wasn't exactly a feeling, but a sensation that there was something wrong. He then realized that it was part of his new power. The sensation was softly pulsating, as if was tapping him on the shoulder and telling him that the forest was not real. Not real . . . Michael silently scrutinized his surroundings. Sure, enough, the forest was not real. He didn't know how he could tell, but he just knew.  There was fuzziness to the scene, the very presence of the forest. Like . . . like he was looking at the scene with foggy eyeglasses. There was no clearness to it. Somehow, it reminded him of something familiar. Like a memory, like when he remembered of a memory, it appeared very slightly fuzzy in his mind's eye.

A memory . . .

"Frankie?" Michael whispered. He gazed back and noticed that Frankie was watching, waiting patiently. He already noticed the intense expression on his face and was silent, waiting for him to finish. Michael cleared his throat and said, "I think I know where we are. I believe it's one of your memories that we are in."

"My memory?" Frankie questioned. "How would you know?"

"Don't you see it? The fuzziness? The sensation that the forest isn't real at all, despite that it looks real?"

"I feel the same, but I don't see what you see."

"Maybe since it is your memory, you can see it clearly and I don't."

Frankie was shaking his head. "If it's my memory, then how did the Assassin get here? I didn't face him in here."

"I don't know how," Michael calmly said. "I just know that it is your memory and we are trapped in it."

Frankie looked like he wanted to disbelieve it, but from his experiences, he knew that it was not impossible. The Keeper sighed, glancing down to the doll resting in his hand. "The memory that I faced the Assassin . . ." He then shook his head in slight bewilderment. "Every day, my life gets stranger and stranger . . ." His fingers curled around the doll, and he looked up, attentiveness in h is eyes. "I suppose . . . you know a way out?"

Michael simply nodded. "I believe so." In such a way that it knew what he was asking for, the Crest of Mercy hanging from his neck began to glow with its ice-blue color. Then a faint glow appeared on the air. Not in the air, but _on _the air. It seemed to order the air to 'open', and soon, a hole was formed, spread in a circular shape, growing in size. As it grew, the group saw completely new scenery from behind the hole. It was like the place was the opposite of the forest. While the forest was white with little of the other colors, the beach, so as it appeared, was black, grey, white, and all the shades in between. It was a simple sight; a grey-sanded beach, black waters gently crashing among the rocks, and two shelves rising steeply, on which stood two lighthouses. One shone black light and other shone white light.

Even that Michael was surprised and a little uneasy at the dark demeanor, he felt

"Michael, must we go there?" Betamon murmured with uneasiness, his ruby eyes full of dislike at the sight. "It's . . . strange."

Michael assured, "We will be safe there. I just know."

Frankie smiled at him. "Michael, thank you."

The Patron shook his head with sincerity, looking back. "No, thank you. If it wasn't for you, I would not have any guts to fight."

The Keeper gave him a thumb-up and a wink. "Pleased to be of aid, buddy."

An exchange of grins, and the group disappeared into the beach scene, the snow forest dissolving away.

To be continued!


	9. Jewel and Pebble

Author's Note:

I really enjoy writing about Yolei and Iori (Sorry, I just hate the name Cody for little Iori-chan). Well, actually, I like to write about all the Digidestined (Yes, even Sora), but I found myself pausing and think about how Yolei and Iori react and talk in the stories. They are special, I think so. I don't really care if you dislike Yolei for being a brat or being so boy-crazy that makes me sick _(I know several friends who are like her. _) _or don't appreciate the way Iori is created with a flat, bland personality. I think they are really sweet and cool in their own ways. Isn't being yourself the whole point? You should be proud to be yourself and not as someone else. You are unique and that's what is special to yourself. Who cares if no one likes the way you dress or the way you see the world differently? Who blasted cares? :)  Yolei and Iori are like that; they don't give _(pardon my French)_ a bleeding damn if they are different. ;)

That's why they are two of my whole favorites! OK, enough blabbering. Let's READ!

Oh, yeah, one thing . . .

*whispers* I do not own Digimon: Digital Monsters. 

Loud enough? Ok? Jolly good.

Children of the Digital

Part Nine: Jewel and Pebble

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

At first, she thought that she was sleeping in an incredible soft cushion, and then when she woke up, she was. She was very weary, like she had worked out too much and left her body, not sore, but weak, limp. She regained her strength in her limbs and she woke up from her seemingly long and heavy slumber. It was a startled change to her, from blackness she was used to see into glaring pink that hurt her eyes instantly.

Miyako rubbed her eyes, both from tiredness and soreness, then tried again, not sure if she saw right. She saw right. Pink. Pink everywhere. There were various colors present, of course, but pink seemed to be the superior authority around here. As she gazed around, she found herself in a room that obviously was meant for a spoiled girl who loved the color pink. The walls were painted pale pink, the carpet was dark pink, and even the ceiling was painted like a pink sky. There were miscellaneous furniture covered with shades of pink, and Miyako was curled up in a thick cushioned chair in a corner. She fingered the fabric, but not felt the texture, since she wore her gloves. Still, she could imagine that the fabric might be made of silk or velvet. 

Again, she looked around and found few of her friends present. Mimi was laying on a heavily decorated bed, quietly sleeping. Her green and lavender clothing seemed to clash prettily with the pinkish-white bed. Sora was here, too, slumbering peacefully on a daybed, also pink; her red and white kimono almost fit in right. And her Digimon, Hawkmon, was sitting on a footstool, a miserable and helpless expression on his face.

Miyako had to giggle at it as she stretched her limbs from the clinging slumber.

Hawkmon gave her a hurt gaze. "I have to say that it's too much pink for me."

The lavender-haired girl smiled. "You are only a male. Men can't stand pink."

"It's so cliché, Yolei," the hawk protested.

"You know it's true."

Hawkmon grinned at his girl's cheerful face. Miyako was surprised at herself lately. She remembered that she tended to panic and even cry if she was in these hopeless situations like this, but she had noticed that she was more composed, not getting scared too fast. She just thought it was probably from her experiences and friends; she was taught not to lose her composure. She just had this feeling that she will be able to find her friends, wherever they were, and she was glad to have her Protectors nearby. They will help her out, too.

"Do you know where we are?" Hawkmon questioned with a sparkle in his cobalt eyes.

Miyako gazed around and shook her head. "No. Do you?"

Hawkmon seemed to gaze at her with a knowing grin. "If we don't know where we are, I would suggest that we would go search, hmm?"

Miyako gave him a smirk, but inwardly, she knew that she needed to do something. She grew worried that her friends might be hurt or worse. The slender girl stood and went to the couch. She gently shook Sora until her amber eyes fluttered open. Miyako grinned. "Come on, wake up, sleepyhead." She then turned to Mimi.

Sora sat up, rubbing her eyes, then blinked as she took in her surroundings. She groaned, cringing. "Oh, my. Too much pink."

"See, see!" Hawkmon supported.

Miyako again gave him a look, then turned to Mimi. She was instantly worried. Mimi was just waking up, looking at the room with vague familiarity dawning in her eyes. She seemed distracted, even a bit apprehensive. Miyako seated upon the bed and asked, "Mimi, what's the matter?"

Mimi brushed back her disheveled honey hair and slowly shook her head, as if she recognized the room, but denying the reality. "This place . . ." Her voice was quiet. "I remember this. This room was used to be mine . . . when I was Princess Mimi."

Princess Mimi . . . Memories nagged in her mind, and one rose. "Oh, then we must be in Gekomon's Castle," Miyako mentioned. "Where your crest first glowed, right, Mimi?" Then she frowned at herself. Gekomon's Castle? Mimi told her about it, but it happened . . . four years ago. How did they get here?

Mimi seemed to think the same. "How did we get here?"

Miyako honestly shrugged. "Search me. I woke up here with you guys."

Sora stood up, her red kimono swaying around, and Miyako had the sudden sensation that she looked different, held power to her stance. Sora was serious as she said, "Look, we aren't getting anywhere staying here. If the others are here, we need to find them and get out."

Miyako nodded, agreeing to Sora's suggestion, but then as she looked back to Mimi, the doubtful expression on her delicate face told otherwise. Mimi was shaking her head at Sora. "I don't think anybody is here. I felt nothing here or anywhere except for your essences. We are alone."

Miyako didn't want to believe that. She didn't believe that they were alone. She had the feeling that her friends were nearby, and all she had to do was find them. But still . . . "Do you think it's odd that your Gekomon and Otamamon aren't here?" she questioned. "It's their castle, after all."

"Yes, you are right," Sora said, lightly frowning. "Maybe we could try search for them . . ."

"And even if we can't find them, I'm sure they are alright," Miyako added confidently. "I'm worried about us getting out."

Sora gave her agreement, but Mimi was silent. "Mimi-chan?" she touched the Guide's shoulder.

Mimi seemed to rouse from the touch. She then half-smiled. "I'm sorry. I had good memories of this place, but I also had bad ones."

Miyako knew her story, and she squeezed on Mimi's hand in comfort. "It's okay. We are here for you."

There was an unhappy grunt from Hawkmon as he went for the door. "Can we please leave? Pink, pink, everywhere!"

His grumbling caused a few smiles from the girls as they finally followed after him. The hallway was brief and led to a long stairway. Mimi walked in front, insisting it so she can feel any essence if there was any. Miyako was in the middle, feeling oddly protected by her Protectors. Mimi may be a delicate lady, but she had this fierceness to her stance, warning anybody not to mess with her. Sora was born a tomboy and still was; in her kimono, Sora looked like she can fight and bite. Miyako was not a fighter. She hated to fight; if she had to fight, she knew how to use words as weapons. She knew sometimes that her words can seriously wound, and she grew careful not to use her words in a wrong way. She just didn't like to fight.

Miyako glanced at the walls, which were colored pale pink, simple and clean. She wondered about this Castle Mimi once told her about. When she remembered that Mimi said she had good and bad memories, she thought she understood. Mimi said that she enjoyed being served and 'worshipped' at a time, but later, she then realized that it wasn't worth over losing her friends, especially Jyou, who she was very close to, then. Mimi told her that she felt guilty and shamed, but she was glad that they accepted her back. She thanked Sora for it. Miyako wondered if Sora had good and bad memories of this place.

"Sora," Miyako spoke over her shoulder, "do you have good memories of this place?"

The Seeker nodded, her amber eyes soft. "I remember little, but yes, they were good." Her fingers brushed back the chestnut strands framing her lightly pensive face. "They were also bad."

"Oh, Sora!" Mimi sounded surprised as she gazed back. "You were the one who helped me realize my insincerity."

"Yes, but I felt guilty for not joining you guys, remember?"

Mimi simply nodded in answer, continuing her walk.

Miyako was disgruntled. She wasn't the one who would like to listen to one's misfortunes. She liked to keep people happy, and so when she heard the words from her Protectors, she didn't like it. She didn't want to hear problems. "Gosh, can you stop talking about bad memories? It makes me feel sad."

Sora gave her a serious look. "Sure, Yolei, you do have bad memories of your adventures."

"Of course!" Miyako waved a finger for emphasis, her face otherwise solemn. "I had regrets for my mistakes, but it's useless to think about them too much. Not healthy."

A chiming laugh came from Mimi as she clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. "That's what I like about you, Yolei. You are so genuine."

Hearing that from one of her idols surprised her. Miyako blushed, shyly simpering. "I do my best."

They then went into a comfortable silence. However, Miyako had a sudden feeling that was so strange. She can't help feeling that even in this quiet, cheerful castle, there was a presence. Someone that hates. Someone that despises. Something . . . evil. At first, Miyako thought it was ridiculous; after all, she had met several forms of evil. Why would this be any different? But then, she then wondered . . . This was a different evil. An evil that was born from the heart, from the existence of a person. An evil that hates the very existence of itself. Or . . . an evil that hates the existence of its other self. It was the strangest thing she had felt.

Almost as instantly, she felt a breath behind her. It was like someone was breathing on the back of her neck and that feeling shivered her, the neck hairs standing out. The breath was like a wind coming out of nowhere, silent and stalking, and Miyako had the urge to look back. 

No one was there. Miyako almost exhaled out in relief, then stopped herself when she remembered. Sora. Sora was walking behind her moments ago. There was no trace of the silver-streaked girl, only the invisible breeze that brushed against her long hair. Dead silence as she stared down the empty hall.

"Sora?" she whispered, almost afraid to break the silence. Beside her, Hawkmon had noticed what happened, sensed her troubled anxiety, and was also silent, not comprehending. When Miyako heard nothing of Sora's voice, she tried again, calling out the name. For a second, the same breeze stirred behind her, breathing on her neck, stalking and almost . . . leering.

Fright striking deep, Miyako whirled around. "Mimi!" Sure enough, as she feared, the Guide was gone. She was alone in the hallway, alone with her confused Digimon, alone with the strange breezes that seemed to laugh at her silently. However, the fright was replaced by mild ire and unhappiness. She rarely got angry, but she can get irritated easily. Her Protectors were gone, perhaps snatched from under her nose, and she felt like she was being jeered at by the provoker. 

"Ok, there is something funny going on here, and it's not funny!" Miyako shouted down the hallway. She then stopped, glaring around to see if there was someone nearby cringing at her words.

"Look, Yolei!" Hawkmon touched upon her leg, pointing toward the opposite end of the hallway. She sharply glanced and got a glimpse of a moving shadow darting out of the sight. It disappeared out in the exit.

"Hey, come back here!" the girl darted down the hallway with Hawkmon flapping behind. But she abruptly stopped just before the exit, a sudden feeling striking her. Her face contorted into a guarded look.

"Yolei?" Hawkmon questioned, awaiting her answer.

Miyako bit on her lip and carefully shook her head, not sure how can she tell this. "Somehow, I feel . . . strange."

"How strange?"

Miyako lowered her gaze to him. "Like I'm being tested."

The red hawk simply raised his eyebrows in question. It wasn't that he did believe her. He just showed his concern and patience as she thought the feeling over. 

Miyako shrugged, showing one of her confident smiles. "Maybe I'm wrong, but let's find Sora and Mimi!"

Hawkmon nodded, grinning. "Now, that's my girl!"

Miyako entered through the exit into a large room. Suddenly, she got the sensation of ancient life in this place. It was clearly a room used for something special, like dances or a place for people to meet. It was much plain, nothing except for a raised throne sitting at a wall. She was surprised to see such a medieval-like throne here; it was not made of rock or wood, but made of marble, grey-white and worn smooth by time. Brown and green vines and flora were everywhere, covering the throne, floor, walls; even the ceiling was covered the most, the white surface unseen. It felt like the plants were left behind by a forgetful gardener and let the plants go wild. It had the feeling of mundane mortality, giving her the hint of life and death mixed in one.

"It's old . . . " Miyako voiced. "Very old."

She began to stride forward, wondering how could that when she saw the shadow coming in here, there was clearly no one here. The throne's back was pinned to the wall, so no one can hide behind it. There was no other place to hide, unless that person was either very thin or very small. She stopped in the center, feeling very small all of a sudden in the agelessness in this place. 

She gazed at the throne for a moment. She didn't know why the throne attracted her.  The throne was known to bear the similar authority of a king, holding power and wisdom around the peasants. Even a throne would be impressive against regular chairs, but this throne was different. The sight of it, trapped underneath those vines, made her think of a powerful person being trapped around power and people who would do anything to get her power. Pressure. Confusion. Bondage. A leader who was afraid that she would fail her friends, her followers.

Miyako lightly frowned, stepping forward. Her left ankle was caught by something, and she glanced downward. Oddly, a vine somehow has gotten itself wrapped around her ankle, as if it was alive. Miyako knelt and, with a bit of difficulty, ripped it off. A movement stirred and she looked up. She gasped as the vines slowly stirred, much alive, curling and unwinding. Like snakes, they crept toward her, and she hurriedly stepped back.

"Yolei, get back!" Hawkmon shouted and went into an offensive stance. "Feather Slash!" He used the feather in his headband and created several feathers. Like throwing knives, he let them fly at the wiggling vines. Unbelievingly, the razor-sharp feathers couldn't cut through some of them. Some of the vines stiffened at that, curled up, seeming to be offended by the feathers, but then continued snaking toward Miyako.

With quick reflexes, the vines shoot out and bind her. It happened so fast. She could feel the vines wrapping around her waist, wrists, and limbs, binding around her like a green-bandaged mummy. The vines that held her wrists raised upward, their roots coming from the ceiling after all. Miyako couldn't pull on the vines; the plants were too strong and stiff. She kept on struggling, grunting, as a distraught Hawkmon chewed on some of the vines, using his rugged beak.

"Don't do that."

The voice was honeyed and yet full of loathing. It sounded so alike to Mimi's voice, but Miyako just knew in an instant, the voice didn't sound right. She gazed upward and regarded a Mimi twin seating in the throne. Every inch of her was Mimi, but the way she sat, her legs crossed in such a position and arms resting on the throne's arms, showed scorn and arrogance. Like an evil queen looking down to pathetic peasants. Her lips were thin, flat, as though she has never smiled, even laughed. Her hazel eyes were dark, no sparkles in them, and they were glaring down to Hawkmon.

"I despise saliva on my plants," she quietly warned Hawkmon, then turned her hazel gaze to Miyako. She visibly shivered; the eyes held lies, disdain, and she felt like that she was betrayed.

Although, Miyako forced herself to hold a wary expression. "You are not Mimi . . . " She didn't know how she could tell; the Mimi twin looked so the same to the real Mimi that it was a wonder how she can tell the difference.

The Mimi twin appeared annoyed, saying, "You are one of the only two people that I cannot deceive. I'm the Liar of Hypocrisy."

"Mimi told me about you . . ." Miyako recalled the stories Mimi told her. Mimi was hesitant to tell her, but she told her that she trusted her about her past and told her about her other self. As the old kids had the same feelings, Mimi was haunted, hurt, but She seemed relaxed, like she knew that her other self will not come back to haunt her anymore. She spoke of a dark Mimi that was the exact opposite of her, deceitful, hateful, and full of haughtiness. The dark Mimi often reminded her of the time when she was Princess Mimi and she was determined to change herself into the considerate, outgoing girl she was now.

The dark Mimi. That was her, sitting before her. Alive. "You are the dark Mimi," Miyako said, slightly easing the tension in her limbs. 

The Liar held up her right index finger and waved it, slightly scowling. "Please. That 'dark Mimi' title is so unenthusiastic. I prefer the Liar."

Her fists clenched, Miyako strained against the vines, which she knew were very hard to break through. "Where are they? Mimi and Sora?"

The Liar made a scornful sneer at her useless struggles. "Girl, it's no use to get free from my vines. They are too durable. If you want to know where the Seeker and Guide are . . . I can show them."

She lazily gestured, and the ceiling seemed to crawl. Vines wiggled and skulked among each other, and soon, two pods were lowered from within the vines. Miyako gasped as she saw her Protectors trapped inside the pods. Vines were tightly wrapped around their limbs, preventing any possible escape. Vines covered their mouths, making them unable to speak, but they were aware, the amber and hazel eyes full of fright and hatred, fright toward Miyako and hatred toward the Liar. 

"Mimi! Sora!" Fueled by her fright for them, Miyako continued struggling as Hawkmon moved forward in a reflex of protection.

He was stopped by the Liar's warning voice. "Make another step, bird, and I will squeeze the life out of them." She simply smiled as a vine simply crept around the Guide's neck for effect. Hawkmon stopped in his tracks, but his cobalt eyes were ablaze toward the Liar.

"What do you want from them?" Miyako demanded, giving up on the vines.

The Liar stood up in a mock grace and shrugged. "Simple revenge." She began to descend the stairs.

"Revenge? Why?"

"I do not have to explain everything to you," the Liar said as she arrived beside the lavender-haired girl.  Miyako again felt icy shivers as the dark hazel eyes glared at her. There was a mixed look of disgust and amusement and Miyako felt like she was being inspected. "The Mistress of Purity, huh?" the Liar wondered, placing her hand under her chin. "Not very pure to me."

"What are you talking about?" 

"Let me explain what a mistress is. A mistress is known as a female leader, a woman with authority to lead her people. Very few women are honored with the title. But . . ." Miyako mentally shuddered as the Liar leered, her hazel eyes lazily half-opened. "A mistress is also a whore, chosen to keep her man satisfied."

The lavender-haired girl was suddenly speechless, staring back. How . . . how . . . How dare her . . . How dare her to taint her given title! The dun eyes narrowed into an action of pure fury, the grey-tan color burning with inferno. "How dare you!" Miyako spitted, darting forward in order to slap that sneering girl before her. The vines held her fast, her contorted face several inches away from that scornful sneer. Miyako strained against the vines, her fury seething.

The Liar didn't flinch from the rage, as she should have, instead leering, the hazel eyes still half-closed. "That makes me wonder . . . Would that mean you are a mistress to all the male Digidestined, or perhaps the mistress of the Master?"

The Mistress wouldn't say anything; she would be more than happy to give the Liar a hard slap across her face to get rid of that sneer, but she was bound and helpless. Not even her skills with fierce words could help her; it would only satisfy the Liar further.

Her Digimon stepped in front, his serenity breaking down, replaced by the wrath of protection. He glared toward the Liar, cawing, "Yolei is nothing like that! She is humane and caring."

The Liar gave him a scornful gaze and shrugged. "And your point being?"

Hawkmon's voice dropped to a warning tone. "If you do not let her go, I can grant you that it's not a nice sight to see a mad bird."

It came so fast that Miyako didn't comprehend the speed of it. The Liar somehow took it as a threat and sharply gestured toward Hawkmon. Suddenly after, Hawkmon was slapped in his head by a thrashing vine. An ugly welt appeared on his cheek, but Hawkmon didn't cringe at the pain. Instead, fire burst in his eyes and he bound for the Liar. Miyako was simultaneously angry and shocked as she helplessly watched her Digimon brawling with the Liar. The Dark Mimi used her dark power to withstand Hawkmon while he wildly beat his wings like an untamed hawk.

"Liar, allow me. Hush of Wind!"

A breeze tickled on her neck and Miyako stiffened as a powerful gust followed after, passing her, playing with her hair. The gust was colored strangely. It was like blood formed into winds that gave out strange warmth, like a desert, humid draft. The gust was aimed for Hawkmon. He was caught in the drafts and disappeared out of sight somewhere in the thick, tangled vines.

The Liar cast the vanished Hawk a scornful gaze and gazed past Miyako. "About time you arrived," she voiced to the hidden person behind and then gave the lavender haired girl a hot glare. She turned around sharply and went to sit upon the throne.

Miyako felt something behind her, a stare that radiated great hatred. Not like the Liar's hatred, which shivered her, but a hatred that hated the very existence of her. She felt that hatred when the wind touched her and grabbed her Protectors away. Instead of cowering against the stare, Miyako remained unmoving, her own anger slightly seething. She was perturbed, mad at the Liar and whoever cast the stare for mocking her, for daring to hurt her Protectors. She was pushed too far and she was livid. No one will dare to mock her again . . .

Someone came in her vision, and Miyako recognized her immediately as Sora. However, as Miyako suspected so, it was not Sora. It was the dark Sora, the Thief of Hatred, her pretty face showing eager hunger that almost scared her. A disdainful grin flashed, and the Thief made a tsking sound as her amber eyes turned to the Liar.

"You roused her temper, Liar," the Thief's voice rang, almost giggling with madness. "Not very nice." When the Liar scoffed at her words, the Thief shrugged and turned toward Miyako. Her grin widened as Miyako just stared back with molten ire. "Hello, young Mistress. I'm the Thief of Hatred and I'm here to hate you."

Her hand shot out and touched Miyako's face. Strangely, the touch was gentle and light, but Miyako stiffened at it, keeping on glaring back. The Thief cocked her head as if was studying her. "Ah, so pretty, so dominant, so . . . insolent." She dropped her touch and turned to the Liar. "It's so sad that – "

Miyako's voice almost drawled as if she was bored, barely controlling her rage underneath, "Is that all you do, disgracing me? I already know who I am, so you are wasting your time."

The Thief glanced at her in mild surprise, then sniggered devilishly. "Oooh! Clever girl, isn't she, Liar?"

The Liar said nothing, glaring directly to Miyako.

Suddenly, in an astonishing speed, the Thief's face was inches away from Miyako's face. She tensed, gasping, feeling the hot breath tickling on her cheek. The amber eyes were no longer sneering, but bold and threatening. "Of course, I'm disgracing you, girl," her voice almost hissed. "That's what we dark selves are here for."

Miyako dared to glare back. "You are not my dark self."

The Thief rolled her eyes upward in thought. "True, true." Then she grinned slyly. "I just want to take this chance before I take my revenge on my sweet sister."

"Why do you disgrace them? What is the point?"

The Thief stepped back, making a wide shrug. "Because it's fun." Her gaze shifted downward and fastened on the rose-red crest on Miyako's chest. Feeling an urge to hide her crest from the horrible disdained gaze, Miyako shifted, trying to move her chest, but the vines held tight.

"Such a pretty crest. I would like to have one of those. That rude Seeker stole mine." Then she giggled, as if was laughing at her joke. "Funny, isn't it, that the Seeker _stole_ my crest?" Miyako said nothing, and the Thief shrugged. "Oh, well . . ." 

Suddenly, her hand darted forward and, with a sharp motion, ripped off the necklace and crest.

"Hey, give it back!" Miyako yelled, again straining against the hold as the Dark Sora moved back. 

"No." The Thief hungrily fingered the crest. "The Crest of Purity. A powerful crest." She stepped close, grinning. "Purity doesn't fit you at all. You are simply too bratty for it."

The Mistress couldn't handle the boiling rage and she desired to wipe that damn smirk off. She did. She spitted at her. The slobber slid down from the Thief's cheek, the look of total anger and surprise satisfying her rage for a moment. The Thief silently wiped it off and grinned rascally.

"Oh, you do have guts, little Mistress." A hard slap across Miyako's face shook her in pain and she bit her lip from screaming out. The Thief growled, "_Never, ever do that again."_

"Leave her alone!"

Miyako remained still, seething silently, as Hawkmon, who has woken from his brief unconsciousness, came to fight with the Thief. The Liar simply sat on the throne, looking bored to death, as the Thief laughed with dark delight, casting tornadoes and gusts to shove the Hawk away, playing with him. The sight of her Digimon being played with, the sight of her Protectors hanging helplessly among the holding vines . . . it angered her. No one dared to mock her. No one. No one will dare disgrace her. She knew that she was worthy. Her battles showed that. Her friends showed that. The Digiworld showed that.

She wanted to save her Protectors. She wanted to teach the . . . _crones _a lesson that the Mistress of Purity will not be ridiculed. She felt something new inside her. A spirit that was cool to the touch, a pleasant coldness like cold water running down her body. She felt clean, felt pure. She felt whole. She felt ready . . . She was Purity, here to radiate the truth and love she had for her friends . . . An Armor Child . . . 

The Mistress's dun eyes closed and the words spoke out from her mouth without force, smooth and serene. 

_"Heart-Armor, Energize!"_

The Thief cried out in absolute agony as the crest in her hand smoldered with purity. She dropped the glowing crest, grasping her burning hand.

A new aura, feeling cool in the touch, radiated outward from her body. It was the same color as her crest, a beautiful, soft red, like a newborn rose blooming its beauty. Emerald-green streaks waved among the red aura, sparkling like real gems. 

Soft breezes began whistling around her, playing with her clothes, hair, the very air seeming to create out from her aura. Her clothes seem to transform in sight. The red, blue, and tan uniform that she once wore materialized into exquisite garments that unmasked the hidden magnificence she bore. The uniform she wore had the strong appearance of the usual Indian garment wore by female dancers. A midriff covered her upper chest, strapless and tight, colored dark red with a unique kind of white sequins sewn on the edges that were hidden but sparkled nevertheless. The symbol of the Crest of Purity was traced upon her chest, colored pale pink. The flowing pants were also dark red, loose and swaying in motion. A gossamer skirt was tied around her waist, silky and flowing. The fabric was white, very clear and transparent. Greek-style sandals were worn, white, its strips tied around her calves. Silver bracelets were added to her wrists for power, making no sound as they glistened inaudibly. A grand tiara rested upon her head, the silver metal gleaming among her long lavender hair. Her oval eyeglasses were gone, as well.

Because her friends truly cherished her, she was called as Jewel.

The breezes dissolved and, still bound by the vines, Jewel stood in her new stance, unruffled and dominant. The Thief and Hawkmon halted their fight and gawked at her as the Liar bristled up, scowling. Then Jewel's voice, as smooth as a rose petal and as piercing as a rose thorn, spoke.

"Let go of me."

The vines abruptly stiffened, as if by her icy touch, then went limp, slumped to the ground, releasing the Mistress. Her hands slowly closed into fists and the red aura slid down to the fists, forming something. She summoned her weapons, unusual and yet effective. Two Japanese fans appeared in the fists, closed and colored white. The left fist came up to her face and, with a flick of her waist, the fan spread widely, revealing an image of a red phoenix soaring on the white background. Its gold eyes seemed to glow with an inner light.

The Thief bared her teeth and wildly gestured toward the Mistress with the words, "Hush of Wind!" As the violent blood-red squall thrust for her, Jewel suddenly moved her body as if was dancing, bending and twirling, opening the other fan. The hands came together, the fans seeming to form a white disk in front of her. Suddenly, the fans _spread_, expanding, until they become an unyielding, smooth shield as big as her. The gust almost hissed as it crashed against the fan. Jewel seemed not to lose her composure, her body still, as the gust faded from the impact.

Jewel turned toward the Thief and flashed the fan with the phoenix. "_Fushichou!_" A light seemed to shine across the fan, making the painted phoenix coming into life. And sure enough, it was alive. The phoenix leaped out from the fan, cooing proudly, its feathers like fire. It soared and glided around the Thief, its long tail feathers cast real fire, burning her skin, clothes, and hair. The Thief screamed as her vision was nothing but fire and golden eyes that glowed from within.

The fire was special; it harmed only the ones with dark hearts. 

A flash of red against orange, and the Thief whirled to see Jewel standing among the fire, calm and her dun-grey eyes like mirrors, reflecting the blazes. Her hand with the blank fan rose up and suddenly, with another twist of her wrist, spikes sprung out from within the fabric. The decorative fans were now weapons. Her heart weapons.

The Thief's mouth only half formed the word 'No' before Jewel ended her hatred. As a faint groan drifted out from Sora, the Thief's body dissolved, pixels drifting past Jewel, but Jewel paid no attention. She only smiled slightly as the phoenix returned to its guard upon the killer fan, the fire vanishing.

Jewel turned smoothly to face the Liar, who was standing up, frowning darkly. The phoenix fan closed and the other fan unfolded, revealing a tiny green-tinted hummingbird gliding in midair.

"You are truly the Mistress," the Liar's voice floated, not mocking nor insolent, but sincere. Then her lips cracked into a sneer. "But think about it. Are you truly pure when you are thinking about killing me?"

Jewel's lips also curled, into a knowing smile. "Why should I believe you? You are only a liar. _Hachidori!_"

With a chirp, the hummingbird darted out from the fan, fluttering around the Liar. Angered, the Liar fought with her vines, trying to cast away the annoying pest. But the hummingbird was too swift and too small to be touched. With its long beak, it sharply pecked and pierced her skin, drawing blood. The Liar gave infuriated cries and tried to swat it, but to no avail.

Silently, Jewel stepped in behind the Liar, the spiked fan raising. Just then, the Liar stiffened, sensing her presence, and whirled around to defend herself. Jewel only gave her a pitying glance before she cast the death blow. The hummingbird gave out a strange chirp that seemed to overlap Mimi's weak groan and returned to its position upon the blank fan. 

The serene light in Jewel's eyes faded, replaced by dawning surprise. She stared down to the open fans, which spikes were still sprung out. Even though there was no blood on the tips, she shuddered at the thought of actual blood that might be stained on the metal spikes if she was to kill a person. She was able to kill. She has hurt, has harmed, and has killed. Even her clothes were of the color of red, not blood-red, but nevertheless red. Sparkles appeared around her, glowing like red stars, coming over her clothes and armor. The sparkles vanished the fans away, along with the tiara, sparkling for the last time before leaving her lavender hair free. Jewel knelt down, silent, confused and slightly shocked, only to respond when her Digimon arrived to her side.

"Miyako . . ." Hawkmon had a strange light in his cobalt eyes, seeming to be deep respect and awe for her. A glint from his wing-hand, and the Crest of Purity dangled from it. The rose color seemed to glow beautifully, again making Miyako feeling homely in appearance. Yet, the color urged her and she gently took it in her hands.

Hawkmon was smiling. "Words cannot describe how proud I am of you." He bestowed her a graceful bow. Miyako felt her eyes misting and, as a little girl, pulled her Digimon in her arms. Hawkmon had gotten used to her many hugs, but the gentle and thankful hug surprised him and he simply smiled as he returned it.

Miyako felt a hand on her arm and looked up to Mimi's hazel gaze. Mimi knelt by and smiled. "Thank you, thank you for saving us." She must've released herself and Sora from the vines. Sora also knelt by her, her face soft and concerned.

Miyako let go of Hawkmon and shook her head, still thinking of the spikes. "But . . . but I killed them. I killed."

"You don't need to worry about that," Sora reassured her. "They weren't real."

"They were to me."

"Yolei, you do understand that they are part of us. They will never go away unless we die. They exist as long as we exist."

Miyako wrapped her arms, remembering the Liar's scornful leer and the Thief's hungry grin. "But you told me that they were gone. How did they get back alive?"

"That's what I like to know," Mimi muttered, frowning. "There must be a way for them to wake through."

The Mistress ran her hand through her hair. "They said they wanted to have revenge on you for destroying them."

Sora cast a troubled grimace. "Perhaps it's the doing of Vampdevimon, or the Final Evil, to let our dark selves become alive again."

The green-clad girl shrugged her hands. "But how?"

The Hawk Digimon, who was silent the whole time, cleared his throat. "I think I know." He then turned and wandered to where the former Thief and Liar last stood. He seemed to pick up something.

Miyako stood up and walked to him. "Hawkmon, what did you find?"

Hawkmon looked at her, then to the older Digidestined. "Maybe your dark selves possessed these?"

Miyako noticed two dolls in his wing-hands. They looked so exactly the same to Mimi and Sora. They look plush and were detailed down to their eyes. Somehow, the everlasting grins shuddered her; for a moment, she thought the Thief and the Liar were sneering back.

Mimi stared at them with wide eyes. "Oh . . ." A shaking hand took the Mimi doll, she looking at it with disbelief. "It's unbelievable, but it's real . . ."

"What's it, Mimi?" Miyako questioned.

"Remember when I told you about Puppetmon's dolls?" She gestured toward the dolls. "These are them, the dolls he used to control our bodies."

Miyako stared at her, then down to the doll. "You told us that the dolls looked like you from four years ago. The dolls can't be changed . . . can they?"

"The dolls are the same," Sora mentioned, frowning down to her Sora doll. "Perhaps they do age like we do. That explains it. Hawkmon is right. The Final Evil must have used the dolls for our dark selves to possess, other bodies for them to use."

"So, it's not a surprise that the other dolls are probably possessed by the Dark Digidestined."

Sora nodded toward Miyako's words. "That's why we are separated, so the Final Evil 'removes' us out of its way."

"Her," Mimi murmured, a faint anxious expression on her face. "I think the Final Evil is a she. She must be the 'mother' Vampdevimon was talking about."

Sora said nothing, her only other response was an uncertain grimace.

Her dun eyes glanced to her Protectors, seeing the troubles happening in them. Miyako then glanced down to her crest, which she still held in her hand. She wasn't surprised to see that the crest was still glowing dimly. Remembering what the Old Kids said about the crests, the crest might have something to tell, something that she needed to regard. When she looked at the crest, she felt a tugging in her mind, telling her to look around carefully. 

She did so, standing up and scanned the surroundings of the walls, flora, and the marble throne. Why didn't she notice it? The longer she stared around, the easier to notice a haze among the vision. It was hard to capture  a direct sight on the haze; the haze seemed to ripple and vanish whenever she tried to look directly at it. But the haze was there, nevertheless. She felt like she was looking through an opaque window.

A memory.

She didn't know how she knew, but it was. A memory remembered by either one of her Protector. And a strong urge in her that insisted to leave. It was dangerous to remain. The haze was getting worse, growing thicker, and Miyako frowned. She knew how to get out.

Miyako turned to her Protectors. "Listen, I believe we must leave this place. We need to find the others. Once we find the others, we will have to find a safe place so we can plan against the Final Evil and find out why she does such things to us." Just then, she recalled that her voice has held the voice of authority, certainty. It startled her.

Sora was grinning with amazement. "You know, you are sounding like Tai."

Miyako blinked. "I am?" Her cheeks reddened, not out of embarrassment, but out of the warmth she received from Sora. Respect.

Mimi gave out a light laugh as she stood. Thought, her voice was serious. "Now, Mistress, do you know how to find the others?"

"No, but I know a way out." She gestured toward the surroundings. "This place is not real, but only a memory, your memories. I can get you out." From her silent command, her crest's glow brightened. It shone a beam, toward a direction, and the beam appeared to shine _upon _the air, not in the air. The beam widened and formed an oval-shaped hole. Hole was the right word to describe it. The hole opened up, revealing an entirely different scene, a grey-colored beach with two high rock-shelves and crashing black waters. Two light shone from the faint lighthouses: white and black.

The girls regarded it for a moment. "That's where we were the whole time?" Mimi questioned.

Miyako nodded. "Yes, and we need to go there. It's a safe place." Though, she pondered why Hawkmon held the uneasiness on his face.

Sora took a glance at the beach, then nodded to her ward. "Ok, let's go."

As the Mistress led, the Guide and the Seeker exchanged each other proud grins. The once energetic boy-crazed lavender-haired girl has became the Mistress, the new leader of the New Kids.

***

He was already awake, and when he woke up, he found himself in the strangest place he'd ever been. It was even stranger than the 'Dreamworld' that Malomyotismon once called. While the Dreamworld had a sense of direction, this place had no absolute sense of direction. He couldn't tell if he was floating upright or upside-down or even sideways. He only was able to manage to keep his friends in his vision, staying upright or at least in the same direction they were floating. The place was colored maroon, a bit of purple mixed in with spots of green, yellow, and orange. He couldn't touch it; the seeming invisible walls were too far. Or perhaps, there were no walls, and he was floating aimlessly.

Iori's stoic face lightly frowned as he observed the area he was trapped in. He only supposed that there was no way out, since there were no boundaries that he could see. He assumed that he was in a kind of space, much like outer space with no gravity and no sense of direction, but it was different because he was breathing. He noticed that, beside him and his present friends, there was a solid object here. A lake. He knew that his eyes weren't tricking him. The lake looked like that it was dug out by a giant and left behind floating in space. The lake still had its shores and few trees, but otherwise, that was it. Water wasn't floating out, but instead stayed where it should be, which meant the lake should have gravity.

He didn't panic; he had a lot of patience and not many things can provoke him easily (except sometimes Daisuke's idiotic attitude). He wasn't afraid, and he knew he should. He was a kid and kids should be scared of something. The only fears he had was the fear of the ocean and small spaces. Here, there were no directions, and while he should feel scared, he rather felt relaxed and unruffled, compared with his friends.

He couldn't help it but faintly smiling as his Digimon made a comical effort to fly gracefully. Armadillomon laughed as his efforts sent him spinning lazily past Iori. His drawling voice spoke, "I have to admit it - flying is the way to go!"

Iori shook his head at him and turned to glance at Jyou. Jyou was calm, too, but he appeared worried, perhaps for the missing Digidestined. His long hair formed a blue-black halo around his head. His dusky eyes darted around the limitless space and then to Iori. His voice held the faintest tone of worry. "I think we all are okay."

Iori only stared back, then spoke softly, "What about the others? Should we search for them?"

"Hmm . . ." Jyou crossed his arms, the motion sending him slowly rotating toward upside-down. "First, we need to find our whereabouts, and then find the others."

"Vademon."

Iori's emerald eyes darted toward Koushiro, who was floating a close distance away. Iori noticed the big change in him since he woke up in the space. Koushiro appeared to recognize the place and he suddenly grew dark and guilty as he stared out of nowhere. He hadn't spoken one word since.

"What?" Jyou said, also worried for him.

The blackish-brown eyes gazed to them, holding shame, and that puzzled Iori. "Vademon. We are in Vademon's Universe."

_Vademon, Vademon . . ._ Iori recalled Koushiro's stories. Vademon, an alien Digimon that 'stole' Koushiro's curiosity and left him floating in space. Koushiro mentioned that he had no feelings, no sensation. He felt no concern, no worry. Just bliss. That was when Koushiro was so horrified that he tried hard to forget about how expressionless he could become and tried his best to express his genuine feelings.

Jyou knew about his stories and he frowned. "I thought it was destroyed."

"I thought so," Koushiro agreed, grimacing as he glanced at his surroundings. "This is exactly what I recalled."

With hand motions, Iori lowered himself toward the lake, saying, "Maybe we can find the others on the lake. Since we know where we are now."

Jyou nodded, also following him. "Right. We won't find anything else around here."

"The lake _is not _what I remembered," Koushiro protested, not moving from his spot. He cast the lake a doubtful gaze.

Jyou bit his lip and Iori saw the deep anxiety in the tension. "We could find something there, Izzy."

Koushiro still appeared hesitant, but perhaps, seeing the logic in going to the lake, he followed. The boys and Armadillomon 'flew'  to the lake, the sight getting bigger and wider. Iori felt a pulling on his body and assumed that the lake's gravity was drawing them closer. With some effort, they managed to stand upon the sandy shores. There was nothing around, nothing but crystal-blue waters, tan-white sands, and looming trees. The lake was a beautiful sight, but Iori felt an uncertainty about it. Like it wasn't real.

Jyou spoke out loud his thoughts, " I guess we are alone here." He turned to them, shrugging, "I don't really want to separate us in our search . . ."

"Then don't," Koushiro's voice seemed to made out of stomping stones, firm and booming in sensation. "It's foolish for us to get separated."

The voice somewhat startled Jyou and he stared at the Warder with more worry. Koushiro appeared to ignore the look, frowning at the lake and space around. Iori silently walked up to him and placed fingers lightly on his arms. "Izzy, why are you so upset?"

Koushiro did notice him, then sighed, his hand rubbing his neck. He looked, suddenly, worn-out and scared. "I apologize. I had dire memories here . . . It was the first time that I felt helpless, felt that I couldn't do anything to help or protect Tentomon and my friends. It was also that I realized that I was ignoring my friends when they needed my help the most. That's why I had to stop being selfish and think more of the others."

Iori tilted his head, his short sierra-brown hair brushing against his forehead. "I don't think you were selfish or even now."

Koushiro gave him a soft smile; the smile that his friends usually got. "You are sensible, Cody, to see through me. It's just that I was afraid that no one would understand why I was distant. I just feared to open myself to them."

Iori heard a rustling and Jyou was at Koushiro's side, also smiling softly. "Izzy, I feel similar to what you feel. I was afraid that no one would see through the whining Jyou and find trust in me. I did my best to be trustworthy, but it was very hard when I freaked out whoever anybody suggested a dangerous path or someone got hurt. I want to show my reliability, being the oldest one, but I ended up looking moronic and ridiculous."

Iori noticed a change in Koushiro. He was changing his smile into a lighthearted one, the one that he earned after his hardships. "Sometimes, I thought you liked to panic."

Jyou cast him a hurt gaze, but still, he chuckled, being used to being the butt of jokes. 

However, Iori felt uneasy. He didn't get it why his Protectors were so scared. He looked up to them, saw them as great role models. He often saw them as his second fathers and held their teachings cherished. He often saw them in action, Koushiro giving suggestions and orders that seemed to save people's lives every time and Jyou using his logic and skills to keep people safe from danger. Very rarely, did he see them being scared, and it only happened when he faced Black Wargreymon. He knew that they were afraid for him, but not afraid for themselves.

Armadillomon read his thoughts; he always did. His voice was oddly puzzled and serious, "Not that I don't mind hearing about your troubles, but why did you tell us about yours?"

Jyou made a shrugging motion. "Maybe it was just bad memories . . ."

"Did you feel that way when you faced your dark selves?" Iori knew it was just a statement, but like Koushiro, he was curious and he often used words to see the reactions. He wasn't surprised that his Protectors were suddenly silent. Their eyes were suddenly dark and closed and their bodies appeared to increase in tension.

Koushiro spoke, but off the subject, "I'm going over there." He strode toward the right shore.

"Izzy, what're you doing?" Jyou demanded. "We can't leave each other."

The redhead didn't even look back as he continued, "Don't worry. I'm just inspecting on the shore on the way. You can see me from your position." Sure enough, Iori's eyes followed the departing figure. It would be near to impossible for him to disappear unless he chose to fly away from the lake. The trees didn't even offer a decent hiding place.

" . . . I suppose so . . ." Jyou didn't sound certain. He glanced to the left shore and turned to Iori. "Cody, you stay here with Armadillomon. I will go that way."__

Iori stared at him with disbelief. "Wait, Joe, why can't I go with you?"

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't get hurt," Iori frowned at him. Why, all of a sudden, was Jyou treating him like a child?

Jyou gave him a firm look. "Just stay here until we return. We won't take long." He turned to depart among on the left shore.

Iori gazed at him for a moment, and then crossed his arms. A reddening appeared in his cheeks. "Why do I feel like I'm in the way?"

Armadillomon sat down, grinning. "Don't think that way, Iori-chan. They just want you to be safe."

Iori sat down, hard. "Because I'm only a child."

"Cody . . ."

Iori waved a hand, smiling faintly. "I'm sorry. I do feel like that I'm in the way because I'm the youngest."

"Cody, you do have the same strength and wisdom as they do. I think being a child is better than being an adult." Armadillomon crossed his arms and made a face. "Think of the things you have to worry over! Work, bills, money!" He then grinned, winking and waving a claw. "Cherish your time as a child, ok?"

Iori faintly smiled. He knew that Armadillomon was a great source for encouragement. Armadillomon encouraged him to take risks, for he said,_ 'how will you learn if you don't take risks?' _Iori nodded, but the reddening remained. "Still, I wish they don't have to treat me as a child."

Armadillomon gave him an understanding expression. "That, I agree."

Iori looked up toward his Protectors to see what they were doing. To his disbelief, they were gone. He hastily came to his feet, again looking around, hoping that he was mistaken. He wasn't. Koushiro and Jyou were gone. Their footsteps leading from him were the only traces that they were present. "Look, they are gone."

Armadillomon grunted, suspiciously. "How did they disappear in thin air?"

Iori cupped around his mouth and shouted, "Joe! Izzy!" He frowned, trying to figure the possibilities out. "It's strange . . ." The trees were a bad place to hide. They probably weren't stupid to leave up into the space, and they had no ability in their powers to vanish in midair. Where the heck were they?

He felt his Digimon tensing. Armadillomon had his emerald eyes darting around. If he had fur, it would be standing up stiff. He sounded guarded and uncertain. "I think there is someone here. Neither Joe nor Izzy. Someone else."

"Where?"

The Shelled Digimon moved his gaze to the lake water. "In there."

 Of course . . . Jyou and Koushiro would be in the water, but if Armadillomon was right and there was someone else beside them here . . . Vademon? It could be possible. He couldn't think of someone else that could be here . . . His curiosity stirred and he found himself walking slowly toward the shore.

"Cody, be careful," Armadillomon hissed, knowing that he wanted to go with him, but uncertainty has rooted him to the ground.

The boy gave him a reassuring nod and arrived to the shore. The water wasn't moving, showing no trace of someone. He crouched, amazed with the water. He didn't know how can he tell, but he noticed that the water appeared sickly. Not oily nor dirty, but sickly. Like the lake was sick of something. His hand slowly came down to the surface, curious to touch the sickly water.

The water moved. A tiny tentacle of water came out like a snake, snaking toward the hand. Iori gasped at the suddenness and stepped back, falling down on his rear. The tentacle then vanished into the water.

Armadillomon was at his side. "Cody! What's happening?"

Iori stared at the calm water, waiting for the water-snake to come out. But nothing happened. He stood up, brushing away sand. "You are right, Armadillomon. There is someone here."

Still, his curiosity kept him from leaving. He kept staring at the water. He wondered how the water-snake came to be. Was it truly alive or a manifestation of Jyou's power? Or of someone else's power? He wanted to touch the water, wanted to see the snake again . . .

"It's not very wise to do that, Teacher."

Iori froze at the voice. He recognized it as Koushiro's voice, but it bore a tone of mockery and scorn. It wasn't like Koushiro's at all. Koushiro would never show scorn to anybody. The voice sounded wrong. He whirled around to find the person. He noticed a figure sitting on a fallen log several meters away. It was Koushiro, but the way he sat was so different. He sat cross-legged, an elbow on one of his knee so he can rest his chin on a hand. The black eyes were piercingly dark, darker than the real Koushiro's eyes. He appeared bored, but Iori could see the disdain in his posture. Iori immediately knew that that Koushiro wasn't the real one, but only the same appearance of him. He seemed to hold a dark aura around him, Iori feeling fear from it as he felt it from a Dark Digimon. 

The Dark Koushiro then shrugged as he continued, "But, of course, you are only a child. You wouldn't understand."

Armadillomon frowned. "Izzy?"

"No, Armadillomon . . ." Iori shook his head at him, then looked at the dark Koushiro intently. He tried to recall of something that might identify the dark boy. His memories buzzed through and a name appeared in his mind. The Fool of Ignorance. The dark self of Koushiro, the Koushiro that has gone bad.

"You are the Fool, right?" Iori asked, trying to stay calm.

The Fool stared back, then slowly lowered his hand on his lap. He tilted his head and grinned. "Yes, I am."

"I thought you are dead. Izzy told me that."

The Fool made a brief scoff and chuckled. "Me, dead? That's so _ignorant _of the Warder." He gazed back with sleepy boredom. "Let me tell you this, Teacher. When the light lives, so does the dark. I cannot be dead if the Warder lives. We are part of each other." He managed to look annoyed. "You really want to continue this nonsense philosophy?"

The Teacher remained silent, not sure what to do. The only thing on his mind was the whereabouts of his Protectors. He doubted that the Fool will answer his question, but he had to try. "Then why are you here? Where are Joe and Izzy?"

The Fool did answer. "You will see them in time. The reason why I'm here is I'm here for my revenge." There was faint anger in his voice. "That Warder let his friends destroyed me and lived like nothing happened. He must know that I cannot be killed. I'm here to teach him a lesson. But . . ." He grinned. "I think I can wait. I will enjoy fighting you, Teacher."

Iori was taken back. "Fight me?"

Armadillomon growled at the Fool. "You don't dare."

"It doesn't concern you," the Fool quietly warned, then gazed at the boy. "If you want to save your Protectors, you will fight me. That's how it goes."

Iori hesitated. Of course, he hesitated. He didn't want to fight! There must be another way to free his Protectors. He wanted to know where they were, but the Fool said he will see them soon. Why did he feel like he was being tested? Why did he feel like that he was mocked, teased, just because he was a child? He _was _a child, nevertheless, and his childlike innocence urged him to get away. No need to fight. There will be a way to find them.

He watched as the dark Koushiro lazily stretched, shrugging. "Though, I have to give it a second thought. I can easily defeat a child like you."

Iori's face suddenly contorted into a bold frown. "Even a child has the power to banish the darkness." When he finished saying it, he was astonished. What made him say that? He tried to find what happened to him, but the firmness, the boldness in him faded away, giving no understanding why or how he said it.

The Fool had his eyebrows raised, slightly amused. "Such powerful wisdom from a child." He again pulled himself into the cross-legged position. "Well, for now, I choose to watch you, little Teacher. Plus, there is someone that you should meet." He gestured toward the lake.

Iori turned to see the dark Jyou walking on the surface. He knew it was the dark Jyou because Jyou didn't walk so arrogantly. The wistful face was leering with eagerness and disdain as the dusky eyes bore deep in Iori's gaze, giving the hint that he will be very happy to harm him.

The Fool gave out a chuckle. "I should've known. He likes to make grand entrances."

The dark Jyou stopped several feet away from the shore and cast the Fool a glare that Iori was surprised that the Fool wasn't burned into hot ashes by now. "And you have a problem with that, Fool?"

The Fool just smiled back and shifted into a more comfortable position.

The dark Jyou made a wide bow, somehow mocking Jyou's grace. That angered Iori. "Hello, Teacher. I'm the Betrayer."

"I know who you are," Iori said bluntly.

The Betrayer blinked and chuckled. "You must be very bold to face that way, or perhaps just stupid."

"Where are they?"

"What?"

"Where are Joe and Izzy?" Iori almost hissed in demand.

"You want to see them?" the Betrayer showed surprised disgust as he glanced to the Fool. The Fool shrugged in answer, and Betrayer made a shudder. Iori wasn't sure if the Betrayer wasn't doing it for show, but it was obvious that the Betrayer was sick of the goodness and protection Iori had. He gestured toward the water underneath.

He saw two large tentacles, the twin of the tiny water-snake, rising from the water. He saw two people in them. Jyou and Koushiro! Jyou was trapped in a tentacle, pushing his hands against the surface, unable to break through. Iori's only gladness for him was that Jyou was able to breathe underwater or he would've been drowned by now. His concern deepened when he looked at Koushiro. The Betrayer obviously knew that Koushiro had the ability to shock him with his lightning and therefore, Koushiro was knocked out cold to avoid it. Only, Koushiro's head was visible from the water, his eyes closed.

"Like my trophies?" The Betrayer grinned. Iori unconsciously stepped back, but was stopped by the Betrayer's sudden sharp gaze. "You better stop right there or I won't be happy when I destroy them."

" . . . Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you want to destroy them?" Iori found his calmness and stood still, keeping the dark boys in his sight, speaking and scanning for a way to free his Protectors at the same time. "As we know, light cannot live without darkness, and darkness cannot live without light, either. If you destroy them, both of you will be destroyed, too."

The Betrayer almost laughed with dark delight. "Not this time. When we were first 'born', the Seer gave us bodies of flesh. Because of that, we were mortal, vulnerable to death. But now the Final Evil, bless her soul, gave us new bodies, possible for us to exist without our so-called good selves. We are finally free."

"It's impossible," Armadillomon frowned.

"Anything is possible," was the Fool's lazy answer.

Iori made a sincere grimace as he kept his emerald gaze on the Betrayer. "If it's true, why do you want to destroy them? What is the point of this?"

"Young boy, that's how we live by," the Betrayer answered. "When they dedicate their lives to do good, help people, all those mushy stuff, we simply do the opposite. That's how Life is, and nothing you do will change that. I thought you are were enough to realize that." The Betrayer gave him an interesting look; it was the expression of light puzzlement with faint disapproval. He then shrugged, leaning against the tentacle that held Koushiro. "I suppose you are nothing but a naive child."

Somehow, the simple word of 'child' flinched Iori. He didn't get it. Why should he feel shame that he was a child? Maybe it was because his friends still saw him as a child and treated him as a child. He wanted to prove that he wasn't just a child, but a Digidestined. He was chosen for a reason and he wanted to show that reason to them. 

His Digimon growled warningly. "Do not underestimate him." Then he yelped out in pain and Iori whirled around, seeing a tiny bolt bouncing off his shell. Armadillomon was closer to the Fool and the Fool had found him an easy target. The dark Koushiro was standing up, grinning with faint delight. "Simmer down, Digimon. We are only starting." With his pointing finger, he cast a small bolt that again bounced off the thick shell. However, Armadillomon cowered at that, feeling the heat from it.

"No, stop it!" Iori cried out. Suddenly, he felt coldness from behind and then around him. Sudden wetness and iciness encircled around him and, looking down, he saw that he was captured by a water tentacle. He gasped as the tentacle lift him by his waist, away from his Digimon and nearer to the Betrayer. "Let me go!" He pounded on the tentacle, hoping to break through, but the water surface was as hard as rock.

"No." The Betrayer grinned. "How sweet, three trophies."

"Do no hurt my brother," the Fool mentioned, gazing at him with firmness. "I want my piece." When the Betrayer simply scowled at him, he sneered and quickly dodged out of the way of Armadillomon's Diamond Shell Attack. The Fool had the same abilities as Koushiro, being swift and having advanced jumping skills. The Fool had no problem dodging the slower and heavier Armadillomon, playing with him. 

"No!" Iori yelled at his Digimon, begging him to stop fighting the Fool. It was useless. "Don't fight him, Armadillomon!"

The Betrayer made a faint growl. "Stop blabbering."

The water surface raised up to his neck and he unconsciously inhaled a breath before the surface covered his face. ". . . !" Iori felt panic increasing inside his chest, beating his heart hard. He tried his best to pound at the surface, which he knew it was useless to break through. Helplessness came and he slowed down. _'What is the use . . .? They are right. I'm only a child . . .'_

Something new came in, also, and he was astonished. He never felt that way before, feeling so confident and true. He felt that way when he faced Black Wargreymon, showing his boldness and determination. He wasn't afraid for this moment, not at all. He felt that he can do it. He can face his enemies with wisdom and strength. He can do it. Warmth came into his chest, filling him with confidence and strength. Armor. He drunk into the power. A Power. A Power of the Armor Children. His Power.

_'Even a child has the power to banish the darkness.'_

And the child was he.

Iori grinned, unlike his usual quiet smile, but the grin that held wisdom and strength. _'Heart-Armor, Energize!'_

His Crest of Wisdom softly shone out, not wildly nor bright, but quietly and sagely as his true soul. It burned upon his chest like a torching brand, but Iori paid no attention, still drinking in the ecstatic power. An aura of deep yellow, softer than his DNA partner's golden aura, as soft as the moon's light, embraced around him, along with streaks of deep wine purple that danced among the ivory yellow light.

His body was almost engulfed in the light and his clothing shifted into something new, clothes that exposed his strength. New Armor came on his body, covering his head, limbs, and chest, but unlike the armor wore by medieval knights. They were armor wore by ancient samurai. Armor that was hued a bright yellow color, making the small boy appearing as the noon sun. Widespread pants, also armored, were clasped to his legs, wide down to his ankles, as padded gauntlets protected his hands, his fingers barely seen from underneath. Yellow sandals covered his feet, dividing his big toe and the other toes in a Japanese fashion. His belt was pure white, as well as his stockings and undershirt. A helm appeared on his head, tied down by a string under his chin. His emerald eyes were the only other color beside yellow and white, which were so perfect for the sun, emerald eyes that burned with strength.

Because he was a child with the biggest heart, he was called Pebble.

With a brief gesture, Pebble sent the tentacle that bound him into an explosion. As rain fell upon him, Pebble landed on the water. Not into the water, but he stood _upon _the very surface of the lake. His left hand opened and his yellow-wine purple aura came into it. His heart weapon. A slender, long katana formed, its blade as black as the night sky, the blackest shade of the black itself. Around the ivory-engraved hilt, yellow wrappings were tied for steady gripping. The blade was smooth and as sharp as possible, the air almost hissing past the sharpness. The yellow aura wasn't even touching the blade, it being too dark to allow any light to touch it.

Pebble turned his dark gaze toward the Betrayer, who stared back in disbelief. He was fast in his motions. Not as fast as Koushiro, but agile and swift as he was, sprinting toward the two tentacles. With two swings, he drove his katana through the bases of the tentacles. Somehow, the power of the blade exploded the tentacles, releasing Jyou and Koushiro into the water. Jyou, already aware of the small boy's power, spent no time staring in awe or fear. Instead, he hurried toward Koushiro and brought him to the surface. He kept the redhead's head out, he trying to wake him.

The Betrayer's angry voice bellowed, "Chaos of Sea!" A huge tentacle burst out and darted toward them. At the moment, Koushiro weakly opened his eyes and gasped at the sight as Jyou braced himself, protecting the redhead with his body. 

Suddenly, Pebble was at their sides, a hand in front. A yellow-colored shield burst out, unfolding outward and neatly protecting the boys, and paused the tentacle in its impact. The tentacle was sent so hard with such impact that it seemed to explode upon the shield. Though, Pebble remained unmoving, unruffled by the impact. Turning his intense gaze to Jyou and Koushiro, he ordered, "Go now!"

Jyou managed to swim toward the shore with the weak Koushiro in his arms. Pebble slashed a tentacle that came for them, then faced the Betrayer. The dark Jyou ignored the boys, now focusing on the sun samurai with rage. He summoned four tentacles out from the water around him and 'threw' them at him. Pebble quickly dodged one while driving the katana through the second, exploding it. The third one impacted upon him, but he sharply dodged and destroyed it. As he dashed toward the Betrayer, a red haze came in his eyes, he becoming a berserker. Once, he learned how to keep his temper and rage down, turning him into a stoic boy, but that his Protectors were harmed, he vowed to end the harmers' harm. 

Pebble slashed, dodged, sidestepped, and leaped over tentacles as he bravely faced razor-sharp rain and smothering fog, which couldn't keep him down. After he sidestepped a stabbing tentacle, he succeeded in gashing the Betrayer's arm, distracting him. Yelling, the Betrayer stepped back from him and disappeared underwater. The water surface was suddenly silent and calm, disturbed only by the ripples from under Pebble's feet. Pebble held his katana ready, glaring at the calm surface. He was angered that the cowardly Betrayer ran away, not even giving him honor or mercy, but he had another Dark Digidestined to face.

Jyou let Koushiro lay down, catching his breath. Koushiro was too weak to sit up and there, he closed his eyes and shivered in the wetness. Hearing coming footsteps, Jyou quickly cast his protective dome around him and Koushiro and looked up to glare at the Fool. The Fool was leaving Armadillomon, who was weakened by the lightning attacks, despite that he was a Shelled Digimon. The Fool grinned with eagerness, looking suddenly hungry.

Pebble came in front of the boys, his katana up. "Stop there."

The Fool stopped in his tracks and turned to him, frowning. "So you finally found your power. A worthy opponent. I will have my fun with you."

Pebble's lips was cracked into a knowing smile. "I don't think so. You are not worthy to me."

The black eyes flashed sharply. "What are you trying to do, child?"

"But, of course. I'm only a child, even through I have my power. Sure, you can defeat me." Keeping on smiling, Pebble stepped back past the boys, keeping his eyes on the Fool.

The dark Koushiro appeared not to be fooled. "It's a trick to make me attack you."

"A trick? You really think I'm capable to trick someone?" He felt water rippling around his feet, but he didn't panic or tense. "Come on, Fool. I'm vulnerable." With these words, the black katana vanished. "Look, I'm only a child, and I never want to fight. Attack! Prove that you are better than me!"

An eyebrow raised. "Certainly a trick."

"I dare you," Pebble said, crossing his arms.

The Fool chuckled as the lightning aura appeared around him. "Very well. If you say so."

Pebble felt the water moving and a cold grip came on his right feet. He took a brief glance down. The grip came from a hand, which came from the Betrayer. His head came out, grinning slyly at the boy. "Gotcha."

His grin faded as Pebble grinned back with confidence. "No, I gotcha."

Purple bolts screamed out and struck Pebble. His armor was built to protect against lightning, an ability given for being the Ward to the Warder. The bolts licked down his armor until they made contact upon the water. The Betrayer screamed in agony, lightning sending stabbing death through his body. Pebble quickly summoned his katana and drove the blade through the Dark Jyou's back. The impact exploded him into digital pixels and Pebble heard a soft groan from the Reconciler. 

A light hissing whispered from the Fool as he realized his mistake. "I know it's a trick."

The Teacher turned to him, quite calmly, as he spoke, "Fool, does the lesson teach you anything? It teaches you to be wise in those times of darkness, be cautious of false appearances, and _never underestimate a child._"

Pebble moved in a flash, as well, directing the black blade right into the Fool's chest. He heard a sharp inhale from Koushiro as the Fool screamed, then dissolved into pixels with a mad visage upon his face. Pebble made no waste of his time, his mind already concerned for his Digimon. A sheen, as smooth as the surface of wine, came over him, removed his armor and katana, leaving him clad in white-lined yellow kendo clothes, wide skirt-like pants and a lightweight shirt, as Iori rushed to Armadillomon's side.

"Armadillomon!" Iori uttered, resting his hands upon the scarred shell. "Are you okay?"

The crooked lips grinned back. "I'm alright, Iori-chan."

Iori wrapped his arms around the Shelled Digimon's neck, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry you got hurt."

"Hey, if it's the only way for you to get your power, then it's worth it."

Iori gazed to him, mildly surprised. "You know?"

"I had a feeling." Armadillomon's emerald eyes somehow sparkled with sly knowingness, then gave him a gentle smile. "Cody, I want you to know that I'm proud of you. Never think otherwise."

Iori made a childlike grin, then looked back to his Protectors. Koushiro was standing up from where the samurai destroyed the Fool, picking up something that caused a light frown to dawn upon his freckled face. Jyou just left the shore, also holding something in his hands. As he arrived to Koushiro's side, Jyou gave him a questioning look, which Koushiro answered with a shake of his head. Iori was puzzled, but didn't ask for more. He had the feeling that he will find out soon. His only concern was that they were safe. He walked up to them, as silent as he was, and his Protectors noticed him coming. He felt relieved as they gave him reassuring smiles, and to his surprise, they knelt by him and hugged him. Iori was astonished, but felt the comfort and protection, he buried in the warmth.

'It was remarkable," Koushiro said, letting him go. "I would never know that you do have a power after all."

"I didn't know, either," Iori admitted, glancing down to his new clothes. "I guess that when I got upset about them hurting you and Armadillomon, something inside me snapped."

Koushiro peered at him intently and curiously. " . . . Does your power have a name?"

Iori lightly frowned to himself. "  . . . No, I don't think so . . ." There was a tiny bit within him, somewhere in his chest and somewhere in his mind, that he immediately recognized it as his power. He gently, cautiously touched it, unsure about how powerful and how easy to summon it. He wondered what kind of power was his, and sudden images appeared in his mind, recognizable and clear. It was a mix of surprise and understanding when he noticed the images. "No, wait . . . I know what is my power. It's the power of my Armor Digieggs."

Armadillomon cast him a surprised gaze. "What? But how?" Iori was puzzled at his response. He knew about the power, but not how or from where?

"I think I know," Koushiro said, taking a long glance to the Crest of Wisdom. "If Cody does have a power, then it's more likely that the other New Kids have similar powers to Cody's. And they have Armor Digieggs, as well. It's possible that, much like our crests, the Armor Digieggs open up for their powers to get through, giving them the power to . . ." he then gestured to Iori's clothes, "well, to wear armor much like the Armor Digimon and wield weapons."

Iori nodded, for he thought the same. "Yes, when I got angry, I felt the power coming out from the Armor Digieggs into me."

"But I didn't feel the power," Armadillomon said.

"It's the same with our Digimon, Armadillomon," Jyou reminded. "When we got our powers through our crests, our Digimon didn't feel anything. They are our powers, not theirs."

The Shelled Digimon took a long gaze at his partner, then nodded. "Ok, I think I understand, but tell me, what are those?" His claw pointed down to two small dolls in Jyou's and Koushiro's hands. _So they were what they found_, Iori thought. The dolls looked very alike to the real boys, with their clothes, hair and usual grins. 

"Maybe Cody knows . . ." Jyou finished, looking to him.

Silently, Iori took the dolls in his hands and gazed at them carefully. He noticed that, when the dolls might look the same, they had something that was strange. Both the dolls had a hole in their chests, as if a sword was driven through. Iori realized it. "I remember. The Betrayer told me that he and the Fool had new bodies given by the Final Evil, bodies that are possible for them to live."

"Is that so?" Armadillomon said. "So they possessed the dolls."

"Yeah . . ."

The Reconciler stirred as he stood. "Perhaps it's best for us to find our friends or a way out first. I'm more concerned about our safety than the dolls."

The Teacher nodded at his words and was startled at how hazy the scene was. Jyou was very clear in his details, but about him, there was a haze that hurt his eyes. It was like trying to peer through a window of oil, glaring and hazy at the same time. He glanced around and noticed that everything except him, his Digimon, and his Protectors was hazy. He then knew. A memory. He just knew that. "I think I know where we are." He stood up and took a last gaze to make sure he was right and, indeed, he was, as he continued, "We are in your memories, the memories where you first met your dark selves."

The boys seemed not surprised, perhaps had already seen more odd things often that he did. But there was a frown on each face. "Memories . . .?" Jyou murmured in puzzlement. "But I believed I met the Betrayer at a beach, not at a lake."

"I couldn't remember where exactly did I meet my dark self," Koushiro admitted, "But this place is really one of my memories . . ." He then frowned, crossing his arms. "How did it come to be that we are inside our memories?"

Iori made a brief shrug. "I'm curious about that, but Joe is right. We need to get out of here." A flash of purple captured his eyes and he looked down to his dimly glowing crest. He then grinned. "And I know how."

At his words, the Crest of Wisdom brightened, shining a beam upon the air. It was strange, although, that the light shone on the air, not in the air. The beam seemed to open something in the air, a hole that 'opened' in size, widening until it was large for even the tall Jyou to get through. There was a new scene behind it, a scene of darkness and wetness. A grey-sanded beach was there, along with black waters and two lighthouses upon two cliffs that shone both white and black light. If such was possible.

Koushiro stared at the scene with uneasiness. "I feel funny about this . . . For some reason, I feel that we are walking into a dark future."

Iori's heart beat harder. Would the future look like this if the Digidestined failed to defeat the Final Evil? He hoped not. They worked so hard to protect the world, and they weren't going to give it up for the Final Battle. They will fight. Iori will make sure they will. 

Jyou seemed to read his mind as he spoke to Koushiro, "Nevertheless, that's where we need to go if we need to defeat the Final Evil." Koushiro nodded in agreement, and together, the boys and Digimon entered the dark beach.

To be continued!


	10. Blood and Dream

Author's Note about Willis

Now, remember, Toei didn't set the brief movie about Willis (Wallace in the Japanese version *winces*) in the continuity with the series. It's completely out of the story. It's supposed to be about Wendigomon (what a silly name, this Kokomon. x_o) 'kidnapping' the older Digidestined into some sort of a negative dimension that moves the age backward so he could find Willis.Yes, he did have a virus, but not by Diaboromon or anybody else. Just a computer bug.

In the American version (Butchered, grr. . .), it's in continuity. And very confusing, I have to say. I would choose to rant about it, but wouldn't anybody else? ;) I'm just doing my best to make my saga working around the incident of Willis and his mistake. I think I did pretty good, but if you feel that I leave out some details or make this further confusing, you have my pemission to blame Saban. ^_^ If you think I'm oddly cheerful, well, that's because I don't know what the heck I'm talking about. Why am I ranting? :p

Ok, should we go ahead and read or what? 

Children of the Digital

Part Ten: Blood and Dream

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

From the blackness, he found himself in a hall of white. It was like he was in a grand hall of some mansion, just a hall with no decoartion of furtunite to line the walls, except for maybe the beautiful, mellow white light that seemed to shine from within the walls. The light wasn't blinding or bright, but soft and dim to the eyes. The light almost encouraged him to fall asleep, feeling safe in the light, but an urging kept waking him. He didn't know why, but he just had this feeling that he needed to find his missing friends.

He knew that his friends weren't here because he didn't see them. He didn't see anbody at all, but he saw his Protector and Digimon, nearby sleeping, so close that he first felt their breaths upon his cheek when he woke up. Ken sat up, trying not to wake them, and looked around. He was puzzled; where are his friends, really? Have they woken up and walked away. He immediately knew he was wrong. At the beginning, he would think that they would do that, but now, seeing that his friends were very loyal and trustworthy, he knew that they wouldn't do a thing like that. They accepted him already, accepted him into their small group of friendship and loyalty. 

After scanning around, he assumed that he was alone with Kimika and Wormon. Almost not surprising, he wasn't frightened at all. He didn't see why he should panic or worry over the disappearances of his friends. He got some kind of feeling, a sensation, maybe, that his friends were alright. He felt confident about that. He just knew that he will find them eventually. 

Ken looked down to Wormon, who was curled next to Kimika, also stirring to awareness. He then reached to gently shake on her shoulder. "Kimi-san?" He would choose not call her with the title 'san', but he felt it was approciate. He did call the other older kids with the title, giving them high respect, even though they mentioned taht he didn't need to. The respect he putted in the title for the Old Kids were different from what he gave to Kimika; the respect for Kimika was thankful because she chose to support him to forgive him, just as what Daisuke did for him. 

As Wormon craled upon Ken's shoulder, for it was his usual resting spot, Kimika sat up and scanned around with great puzzlement in her face. Seeing that there was no injuried on his friends, Ken stood and  went to touch the walls, curious. The walls felt like smooth stones, stones that were smoothed by crashing waves. There were no flaws or scratches that stated that a person was here before them.

There was no dirt, no dust, or anything else beside the light. It was clean. Too clean

Ken aburptly got a visiont that he was trapped within the hall of the beauitful light, trapped in eternal light. That earned him a shiver up his spine.

The black-haired boy turned to Kimika. "Look like we are the only ones here." Kimika didn't answer, appearing deep in thought.

Wormon softly questioned, "I guess that we have to go find the others, if they are here somewhere?"

Ken nodded at him in agreement, then lightly frowned. "Though . . . I don't remember hearing about this place before." His dark memories of the Emperor no longer bothered him, the nightmares were nearly gones, replaced with sweet dreams of his new friends and a new life with the Digimon. He was forgiven and was already happy. The memories no longer scared him. Instead, he just recalled them, to see if, while he was the Emperor, he had ever heard a place like this. He had travelled all over the owrld, but he didn't remember a hall that shone with light.

Kimika stood and mentioned, "It's because it's hidden. I known this place. It's the Hall of Illusions."

"The Hall of . . . Illusions?" Ken was puzzled; the name sounded familiar, and he looked down to Wormon to see if  he knew.

The worm knew. "I remember it was supposed to be a kind of amusement park for Digimon, but I guess something happened to it that caused its disappearance."

"Arachnimon must have snared it under her control," she said.

He then remembered. Kimika told him about her stories of how she got her power and saw the reality behind the illusions, as she was once fond to say. He also remembered the dark tone in her voice . . ."Kim, are you afraid that . . . you are back here?"

Kimika gazed back for a moment, then shook her head. "No, I'm not afraid of this place anymore . . ." However, there was a faint frown on her lips. "But it makes me wonder. The Hall is hidden and I wonder how we got inside here. I recalled that my crest opened the entrance."

" . . . Maybe there are other entracnes." It seemed to be the logical statement.

Kimika looked not so certain. "Maybe . . ."

"And there is a way out, right?" Wormon sounded shyly hopeful. Ken knew how he felt. He still felt trapped in the strange eternal light and was looking forwrad to get out.

"Yes, there is," she said. "You have to believe that this place is not real. That's how we get out by looking behind the illusions."

"Look behind the illusions . . ." Ken gazed around and briefly shook his head. "Kim, i have to say this place is difinitely real."

"I know . . ." Kimika frowned toward the walls, appearing to use her power to see anything strange or out of the orindary. She then exhaled. "Well, never mind this. I suggest we do what Wormon said."

"Me?" Wormon was astonished, his tiny anntennae raising upward. "What did I say?"

Kimika smiled and reached to friendly rub under the Digimon's chin. "Finding the others."

Wormon's yellow and blue shell reddened and Ken just had to grin at the comical sight. Wormon cleared his throat, "Oh, ok, we need to find the others, but where to go?"

Ken had the answer for him. He quietly pointed to his right down the hall. There was no way to tell if there was a door or even an exit on either side, but Ken had this feeling that something was waiting over there. It was possible to see if it had something with their search. Worth a try. "I have a feeling that we need to go there."

"A feeling?" Kimika appeared untrusting, gazing at him carefully. "How bad?"

The Friend was puzzled. "Bad? Nothing like that. Just a feeling."

"I see . . . " the Seer gave the hall a suspicious gaze.

"Kim, are you okay?"

She seemed to quickly shake her head. "Nothing. Come on." She moved on, toward what Ken had pointed at. There was distrust in her body, he noticed, and he followed behind, watching her movements. He had learned that when she may be quiet and reserved, her body language was very easy to read. She didn't know how to hide her feelings, or perhaps just didn't see how she should hide them. The way she walked like that showed that she was uneasy about this place, despite her words. Maybe it was not that she was scared of the place. It was something else.

Ken strode up to her side and spoke, "Kim, something is bothering you, I can tell that."

Kimika slowed into a stroll, meeting his purple-blue gaze. "No, it's not something that bothers me." Her brown eyes scunitized around. "I can't help but feel that there is a reason for us to be here, alone, in this place."

"How can you tell?"

The Seer made a knowing grin. "How can I tell? I'm the Seer. I can see the future."

He knew that she was named the Seer, but he never assumed that that meaned she was a prophet. She didn't mention anything like that. "You really can . . .?"

Kimika shrugged. "Not that good, but I can see things that are hidden."

_Ah, clairvoyance. That would make sense._

Wormon was talking, "Did you see something else here?"

"It's not the way it works. Often, if I see or touch something unique, it could trigger an event or an image that could happen anything in the future. My sight is not that accurate."

Ken lightly frowned as he regarded an exit ahead.The exitway seemed to lead into a room, but he didn't get a good look inside. They paused before it, Kimika peering in with a serious face. There must be something that she noticed and they haven't. Ken asked, "Then, Kim, what do you feel about the reasons we are here?"

"It's a test, Ken." There was a such certainity in her voice that Ken was startled to hear. It almost didn't sound like her, but sounded like the Seer.

"Test?" he repeated. "Like the tests Sanimon gave?"

She quietly shrugged her hands, stating that she didn't know. "I don't know for sure, but I think we will find out. Prepare yourself." As she stepped in, Ken simply nodded. Anything that seemed outlandish tend to happen to them in a few minutes. Ken felt that he will see something new.

He entered the room and was astonished to see a room like that. Wormon might be right; the Hall of Illusions perhaps was an amusement park. This room reminded him of a typical hall with all the mirrors, bent and twisted, giving the reflections an interesting, disoriented appearence. But the six life-size mirrors present weren't bent at all, but stood erect and sharp. The reflections were what astonished him. Different reflections looked back, reflections of his, yes, but different. 

He went to the first mirror, where Kimika stood in front, a bewildered look in her face. There were reflections of a younger Kimika, Ken, and Wormon in the mirror, wearing the same expressions. He looked down to his reflection, a four-years-old boy in dark blue nightclothes that matched his wide eyes. On his shoulder, there was Wormon, but in his Digibaby stage of Leafmon. Beside them, the seven-years-old Kimika was touching the surface, at where the older Kimika also touched. She was in nightclothes, too, a long nightgown of light purple and her black hair in two pigtails. 

"That's what I looked like when I saw my first Digimon," Kimika whispered. "Back then at the apartment where Tai, Joe, and everybody else saw their first Digimon, a Red Greymon and a Parrotmon fighting . . ."

Ken nodded, staring at his reflection. His curiosity about the other mirrors grew and he, along with Kimika, moved to the next one. The reflections seemed to age four years later. Ken was very surprised to see his reflection wearing the clothes he recalled when his older brother taught him how to blow bubbles; a grey short and a light blue shirt. Wormon, in his In-Training stage of Minomon, was still on his shoulder. Kimika looked like she was eleven, in her clothes when she first entered the Digiworld, a red tank-top with the black stripe across her chest, blue jeans, yellow gloves and boots, along with the red-tinted sunglasses upon her braided hair.

They moved to the third one, which showed them in their present ages and clad in casual clothing; Kimika in her black tunic, black jeans, and white sneakers and Ken in his black and purple striped shirt and khaki pants. Wormon remained the same. The fourth mirror showed a funny reflection of Stingmon appearing to sit upon Ken's shoulder, which drew a few laughs from the trio. But then Ken noticed that his own reflection was also changed, unlike Kimika's. While Kimika wore her grey fighting uniform, Ken appeared to be clad in a black and white uniform. He wore a long-sleeved tunic, pants, and mocassions, all black except for white lining among the ends and sides.  The black clothes seemed to be loose for moevemnts. He didn't know why, but he had the impression that he was dressed like a ninja.

"That's an interesting place, don't you think?" Ken said as he turned to the fifth mirror. Kimika was silent, staring in the mirror, then followed after him, a thoughtful look in her eyes. The fifth mirror was very odd, indeed, for it showed Kimika in an unusual reflection. She wore the same uniform, but it seemed to be darker in the light, he wasn't sure, and instead of the rich brown eyes, there was darkness in her eyes, or . . . perhaps the darkness _was _the eyes, orbs of the blackest black. There was a faint silver light around her, almost unseen, but Ken could see and was curious. Wormon was there, too, in his Armor Form of Suiginmon. Ken frowned; there was no reflection of him.

"What happened to my reflection?" he wondered out loud.

"I believe this mirror shows the powers," Kimika murmured, touching the mirror, meeting the fingers of her reflection. "As you see, it shows my power and Wormon's Armor form, but you have none, so no reflections."

As the Friend stared intently at the mirror, he would swear that he did see something else, something that looked very close to him. His reflection was in there, he was positive, but if he did have a reflection in this mirror, would it mean he has a power? He mentally scoffed. Why would he has one? What was the point? Even if he did have one, he didn't feel worthy to have one. He was happy enough being himself, and he was sure that he didn't need to be someone else.

Ken turned to his Protector and shrugged. "Maybe that is why."

The sixth mirror was completely different, totally surprised the trio that it drew out a gasp from Kimika, a step back from Ken, and a violent shudder from Wormon.  There was only two reflections and Wormon's wasn't one of them. The reflection wasn't Kimika, even though she was the twin, Ken knew it. He knew Kimika well enough to know that the reflection wasn't difinitely hers. Despite the appearance, the reflection was too . . . dark. The posture showed that there was no emotion, no feeling within. The eyes were too blank, too dead to be hers. The face was stony, impassivity, expressionless, but it bore the faintest hint of emptiness, as if there was no life behind the facade. 

Wormon buried his head in Ken's neck, whimpering, and he felt sympathy for him. The dead eyes made him feel like he was nothing, meant nothing. "Who is she . . . ?" he voiced.

Kimika met the dark twin's gaze with heavy pity and hurt in her gaze. She managed to answer, "This is my dark self, the Stranger.'

Stranger . . . He recalled her stories, the stories that she spoke with a heavy heart. The stories about how she met her dark self. Ken never doubted her; he knew how he felt when he recalled about his dark self, the Emperor. He remembered that she bore the stories differently from what he carried his stories. When he was shamed of his dark self, she didn't sound guilty or ashamed, just heavy remorseful, mentioning that she could have  become her dark self if she didn't go to the Digiworld and changed her life. The Stranger of Emptiness.

Ken turned to stare at the other reflection. His reflection. His dark self. The Emperor. Unlike the emptiness the Stranger held, the Emperor clearly held cruelty and harm. The dark grin, the bright, scheming twilight eyes, the arrogant posture, the dark clothes . . . It was no doubt that it was the reflection of the Emperor. He only hoped it was only a reflection . . .

His Digimon again whimpered, a pitiful sound, and Ken rested a hand on the shell. Turning to her, he said, "Why are we here? We have to leave." He took another step toward the entrance.

"No, wait," Kimika said, not leaving her gaze from the mirror. "There msut be a reason why we are here. We have to find what."

Ken shook his head violently, his blue-black hair brushing his cheek. "No, Kim, we don't have to." He whirled toward the entrance and stopped there, his face drawing in a disbelived expression. The entrance was closed. How could it be possible? There was no door! Nothing! "Hey, let us go!" Ken pounded on the seeming doorless wall, but to no success.

Suddenly, but slowly, the light dimmed. The walls seemed to lose the light, turning black, as the light lost its white color, turning into a weak grey. Ken turned to Kimika, who had the panicked look on her face. He thought it was her doing, but the look proved him wrong. "Kim!"

She was frightened, shaking her head. "My power doesn't work here! We are trapped!"

_Like hell he was trapped! _Ken focused on what he can do, which was pounding on the walls and mirrors. He knew it was silly and a waste of breath, but he sure won't wait and fidget. He won't feel helpless again. The mirrors seemed too solid to break through, and the bouncing, panicked reflections didn't help to ease their panic. The light continued to dim, weakening his sight, and he struggled to see around. He noticed something bewildered. He saw that the dark reflections wasn't moving, not following the real kids' movements. They just stood there, sneering and watching . . . As if they were alive . . .

The light blackened, removing any degree of visilsibity. Ken froze, not knowing what to do. He had the sudden senation that he was alone, really alone. He couldn't hear Kimika's breathing or voice and Wormon somehow vanished right into midair, his weight on his shoulder gone. It was too quiet . . . Fearfully quiet . . .

"Wormon-kun?" Ken dared to whisper out, his voice barely echoing. "Kimi-san?" He then staggered around blindly, his hands moving in front. " . .  Answer me, please."

At the same time, a breath inhaled and a mellow white light came out from behind him. He again froze, because of two things. FIrst, the breathing sounded like Kimika, but he knew that it wasn't her. He wasn't alone. And the light . . . It didn't have the softness, the gentleness to it as Kimika had in her LIght Power. The light felt empty, felt that there were no colors shining within the whiteness. It was glaringly bland.

He stepped around, cautiously, to see the mirror that reflected the dark selves shining with the bland light. The Stranger was there, standing alone. Her dead eyes were staring at him with no sensation of pleasure or disapproval. Just a cold stare that Ken suddenly wanted to get away from. He was puzzled, although. He recalled that when Kimika told her stories, she mentioned that her dark self was destoryed, thanks to her friends' loyalty. THe Stranger was supposed to be gone, supposed to be nonexistant.

"You are alive . . ." Ken dared to speak his thoughts, carefully watching the reactions of the Stranger.

She only blinked once, moved forward to 'step out' the mirror, the actions causing it to ripple like water. Her voice was flat and toneless, "I'm always alive, Friend of Kindness."

Teh voice shivered him, and Ken urged himself to keep his compusure. "What did you do to them?"

The Stranger didn't answer, instead  quietly gestured toward the rest of the mirrors. Ken glanced at them cautiously and was startled to see his friends in a mirror. Those weren't reflections, but the real Kimika and Wormon. They appeared to be within the mirror, trapped, staring out with expressions of bewildered confusion. 

The Friend rushed to them, kneeling down, pounding the surface. It won't break. He made a hissing sound. "What did she do to you?" he whispered to them, knowing that they couldn't hear him. He turned to the Stranger. "Let them out!"

"Only if you defeat me, then I will," the Stranger said calmly.

Ken scowled. "Defeat you? Why? What is the point to this?"

"Didn't you hear what your Protector said?" The Stranger made a brief glance around the room and continued, "It's a test and the test is to face me and defeat me so your friends will be free."

The Friend didn't like it. He didn't see the point why he should fight her. If it was a test, it was a stupid one. She was a dark self and probably had the advantage of enhanced poewr, for he knew when he used the living darkness to enhance his henchmen. Also, there was no doubt that she had the Light Power, and so he was at a disadvantage. It was a stupid test. But . . . Isn't that what the Digiworld taught him to do? Learning how to take advantage in a disadvantage? He had fought battles of his makings, his nightmares, and the Digiworld's nightmares, as well. He earned friendship and forgiveness. Maybe this disadvantage could be his advantage . . .  Wasn't that what he was prepared for . . . ? He faced two tests, one that broke him from self-pity into forgiveness and another that woke him to his unique trait of Kindness. What kind of test would this one be?

He had to face it.

Ken inhaled and met the gaze of Kimika. She seemed to know what was going on, and she was shaking her head in answer. The eybrows were crossed in disagreement, but there was fright in her eyes. Ken knew. She was frightened for him. He placed a hand upon the surface, and she also placed her hand on the surface. He kinda hoped that way he could feel her fright, but he won't let fear overcome him. He faced the darkness once too many and it hardened him. It was pointless to be scared when he already had confidence in himself.

Ken gave her a gentle smile. "Kim, I will be fine. I have faith in myself. I'm ready." He then grinned confidently down to the silent Wormon and stood up to face the Stranger. The Stranger haven't moved from her spot.

"Are you sure that you are ready, Friend?" 

Ken resisted a scowl. He cherished his title, liked the humbleness, the power behind the word, but he didn't like the way the Stranger used his title. It made him sounded like he was a stranger as well. "Anything you throw at me, I will face it."

"Anything?"

"Anything." He knew he should't say it, but he had to be ready for anything.

The Stranger tilted her head in reaction, and then her right hand flickered in movements. To his astonishment, his shadow beneath him jumped into life, pulled out of reality by the Stranger's power, and laid in front of her, in a formless black puddle. She spoke, "Then will you face the source of all your hatred, fear, and anger?"

Ah, a stupid test, indeed. Ken allowed another frown on his face, this time tinted with boredom. "Can you just do better than that? It's getting old."

The Stranger shot him a look that hint her disapproval, if the stone face was possible to express anything. "I'm not finished." A sweeping gesture, and the shadow leaped for his eyes.

Ken plunged into blackness, but he knew that he was still standing on solid ground, and so he stubbornly told himself that it was not real. He was here in the room, just blinded by his shadow . . .

As quick as the blackness blinded him, it was gone, and Ken found himself in a desert. For some reason, he recognized the place . . . The desert where he met his brother. Ken inhaled in disbelief. The illusion that Malomyotismon drew him in. He searched for the scene where Digimon 'deleted' him for his punishment or the sight of his brother, but there was nothing. Nothing but . . . bubbles. Ken softly gasped, for they looked so alike the bubbles he and Sam once made. He watched as bubbles floated aimlessly past him. One by one, he noticed that there was something inside the tiny bubbles. Flashes of scenes. Voices.

_Sam laughes, grinning to his young brother, who was holding a bubble blower. 'You are so gentle unlike me. Tha's what I like about you, Kenny boy.'_

Ken was startled. " . . .  Sam?" He tried to see more, but the scene was gone, and the bubble quietly joined its brethen in the drifts.

_"Mama, Dad?" The young Ken appears to stand outside of a picture-like scene, where Mama and Dad sit by Sam, laughing altogether. Young Ken wants to cry. "I'm here . . . Why can't they see me?"_

Ken bristled. _Not again . . . _He closed his eyes, forced himself to hear the voices.

_The sound of someone slapping a hand and Sam's sharp voice. "Never touch my things, you hear me?!_

_"I wish Sam would go away. I wish he never exists." There is a tone that is almost dark in Young Ken. "Then Mama Dad will see me."_

Ken flinched at the sound of a car crashing into someone and the brief screaming. 

_Young Ken wails, "I didn't mean to make this happen! Please, Sam! Come back!"_

Ken ignored the tears that fell on his cheeks. He knew he wasn't heartless. He was still hurt with his past. But the stupid Stranger . . .  taking advantage of him. 

He heard his laugh, the laugh that was born out of the Emperor. _"I will become better than those weak insects! I'm the Digimon Emperor!"_

_"I know you are always kind and gentle," Wormon speaks, a knowing smile in his voice. "That's the Ken-chan I know."_

_A cracking of a whip. "Work, you worms!"_

Amidst of the Digimon's yelps of pain, he heard his best friend's voice, angry and frustrated, _"You are a Digidestined like us!"_

_"Digimon are alive like you and me!" Takeru's voice is hot with rage. "How could you treat them like nothing?"_

_Thousands of Digimon's voices, yelling in unison, mixed with pain, anger, and disbelief. "You are a monster! A monster! A monster! A monster!_

"Stop!" Ken finally yelled, yelled to drown the voices. He clapped his hands over his ears and knelt down. "Stop it! My memories no longer haunt me, so stop it, Stranger!"

"Then why are you cowering there like a pathetic worm?"

Ken popped his eyes at the voice. His voice. The Emperor's voice. He slowly gazed up and saw his dark twin standing before him. His face controted into a grimace. Of course. The Stranger would do that. It was nothing but a cheap illusion. "You are not real."

The Emperor made an exaggerated, annoyed sigh. "How many times do I have to say it? I. Am. real." He furiously tapped on his head. "Get it through your thick skull!"

"Go away." Ken became calm, staring back. No need to waste his energy on the illusion.

The Emperor just grinned with dark eagerness. "It's very nice of you to grovel at my feet. Are you ready to fight me?"

Kensaid nothing. What was the point to fight an illusion? Nothing of this was real. All he had to do was believe that it was not real.

The Emperor seemed frustrated at his calmness. "Come on, Kenny boy! Your friends will be very disappointed if you don't fight me. You will be seen as a coward."

Ken simply shook his head. "I'm not a coward never am." He then smirked as he stood up. "I don't fight you because you are not real, my brother." He was pleased to hear the mocking tone in his voice. He was confident that he will defeat the Stranger that way.

He turned away, and almost suddenly, he heard a cracking of a whip. He tensed, but it was too late. The whip slashed upon his back, sending pure hot daggers through his body. He gasped, but not screamed, as he fell down. He forced himself to resist the pain and told himself that nothing of this was real. _Not real. Not real._

The dark laughter rang in the air. "How real can it be?" Another slashing of the whip upon his back.

_'I know it is not real!' _Ken bit on his lip from the pain. _'Why can't the illusion go away?!'_

_'Look behind the illusions . . .'_

The Friend closed his eyes, puzzled. _Kimika? What did she say before . . .? Look behind the illusions?_ How? He tried! He has tried! He knew that the Emperor was not real, the pain wasn't real, the desert wasn't real. Why can't it go away . . .? The pain . . . He noticed . . . it was the same to his pain of suffering . . . It was the pain to remember his memories, the pain from being the Emperor. The Emperor was him, not an illusion. The desert was real because . . . that was where he first met Wormon . . . It was real . . . Everything was real . . . That was why the illusion didn't go away because it _wasn't _an illusion . . . He had to face it . . . Face what?

_Look behind the illusions . . ._

_What was the illusion . . .? Nothing of this was an illusion . . . What was  the illusion? Who was the illusion? _

_Stranger._

Suddnely, he knew what to do. He will defeat it. He was confident and determined. He never felt that way before, even when he faced Malomyotismon with his friends. It was his test alone, with no help. It was his turn. He felt something new, stirring within the pain he bore. Something that bore warmth, not body heat or anything that represent heat, but the warmth that he held for himself. He was cleansed from his pain, not matter how long the memories stay with him. Nothing of this may not be a illusion, but it didn't mean that he had to reject them. They were part of him. He knew it and he accepted it. 

He knew who he was. He was Kindness, bearing warmth for anybody who was hurting inside, willing to share the pain. A power was awakened within him. One of the powers. The Power of an Armor Child.

The Friend of Kindness burst out a laughter, a laughter that was born of kindness. _"Heart-Armor, Energize!"_

His Crest of Kindness shone in its soft lavender shade under his shirt. It was bright and kind and it gave out a healing feeling, a cool and gentle touch that eased the pain. A new aura began shining from within him, engulfing along his outline. The aura was a deep, soft black, the blackness that came from the night, a peaceful blackness that caressed during Sleep, as warm, gentle rays of lavender spread outward, seeming to break through the night blackness into a new purple dawn.

His grey uniform darkened into black, the blackest of the black, and the details adjusted to match his kindness, his spirit, his power. A long-sleeved tunic covered his upper body, loose-fitting and yet comfortable and silent in movements, along with white strips tied around his wrists and elbows, crisscrossing across his chest and arms. His pants were loose, as well, and also tied with white strips, and he wore black gloves and mocassions, as well. A black face mask covered his lower face and head, allowing only his eyes to peer out. His clothes represented a Japanese ninja, and a ninja he was, silent, obversant, and a killer only when he needed to.

Because he paid his mistakes with his blood, he was simply called as Blood.

With amazing flexibilty that would make a gymnast envious, Blood twisted himself into a standing position, facing the Emperor. His twilight eyes sparkled with softness yet danger, stating that even the gentle, kind Friend can be bloody dangerous. The Emperor was startled at the movements, but regained his bearings and attacked with his whip. Blood dodged them with quickness, bending backward and sidestepping. The Emperor was too astonished to defend himself, and Blood took the chance. He thrust his right foot forward and crashed against the Emperor's head.

The Emperor screamed. It wasn't his. It was the Stranger's scream. The Emperor fell to the ground, holding his head. An instant later, as the details blurred, the Stranger laid in place of the Emperor, holding her head. The illusion was the Stranger. Her power was lost to his power, and again, the details around him blurred, and he stood in the room of the mirrors, with his friends still trapped in a mirror and the Stranger struggling to gather her composure.

"Fighting with your illusions . . ." Blood spoke, his voice new and calm. It also grinned. "Are you afraid to face reality, Stranger?"

If she could cast him a frown, she would. But she didn't. Just staring back. Still, there was disapproval in her voice. "I will not be defeated before I have my revenge . . ." A hand gestured toward him. A beam of darkness leaped out.

From his raised hand, a black and white shield appeared out of the air, spread outward, getting bigger until it was twice his size in diameter. It held in stabilty as the beam struck upon the surface. It seemed that the shield had a power to resist another power and the beam exploded upon the contact. The darkness faded into the dim light. Light swallowed darkness.

His black aura crept down to his hands at the same time the shield was summoned. His heart weapons. Curled metals appeared among his fingers, sharp in lethalness and glimmering in the light. Claws. Claws that represent a tiger, a bear, a dragon. His claws. The metal was hued blood red, as if it was dripped in his blood, not dried and rusty, but wet and bright red, fresh red. The metal claws were tied around his fingers with hard leather, colored black upon black gloves, making the metal claws appearing real claws.

He removed his shield and noticed that he was alone once again. No Stranger. He didn't move, his eyes the only ones moving, searching for her. Then she appeared in front. And another. And another. Six Strangers. Standing in the front of the six mirrors, the dead eyes watching him. Illusions, he noticed, and which one was real?

They spoke in one voice, "You may have faced your darkness, but can you face the Seer's darkness?"

Blood took a glance around and smiled. 

Six. _Six mirrors._

One. _One showed the reflection. _

He knew. "Sure, I can. She showed me."

Blood burst forward, not making a move to slash the Stranger standing before him, but moving past her, even as she moved not. He aimed for the mirror. Red flashed, and his claws slashed across the surface of a mirror, drawing white lines, then the surface cracked. Cracked again. Shattered. He didn't stop. As one of the Strangers faded into nothing, a simple illusion, he leaped over to the next one, also shattering it down with his claws. He was a black blur, moving in a circle, shattering the mirrors and the five Strangers faded into midair. Then he stopped.

One mirror left. The real Stranger. She gestured toward him, but he was too swift. Keeping his body low, he darted past her and drew long lines upon the last mirror, lines that shattered the surface, destorying the Stranger. The dark Kimika gasped, winced once, then disssovled into digital pixels.

Blood stopped by the last mirror and glanced inside it. Kimika and Wormon were there, finally free from the Stranger's illusions. She stood up, a bit unsteadily, with Wormon perched on her shoulder. Blood reached to hold her. "Are you guys are all right?"

Wormon grinned and nodded as Kimika said, "We are alright, thanks to you."

Blood smiled behind the mask, and suddenly, a dazzle came around him. It was not glaring, but the black dazzle had solidity to it, as bright and as deep as the night. His ninja clothes and claws were gone, perhaps now within his power. His clothes were new, the same to his reflection in the fourth mirror. Upon the black shirt, the Crest of Kindness was still glowing with a soft light, lightening the dark room, reflected off the shattered mirrors. The light caused tiny rays to dance in the darkness like purple stars.

Kimika appeared thoughtful as she let Wormon crawling upon Ken's shoulder. He gave the worm a warm hug; he will never get tired of hugs and he knew that Wormon was fond of hugs, even though he shied toward other kids' touches. He watched as Kimika walked up to where the Stranger once stood and reached down to pick up something. He was puzzled and he took a look down to her hand.

There was a doll in her hand, plush and small enough to lay in the palm. The doll looked exactly alike to her, with the grey uniform and the quiet smile. He looked up to her face and knew immediately that she wasn't thinking about the doll, but something else. He can tell that. He waited until she looked to him and she spoke. Her words surprised him.

"It's amazing when you think about it." She glanced down to the doll. "Even since I joined my friends in our adventures, I had learned that anything could and can happen anywhere, anytie. We are living in a world that there are possibilties that we would never think of, but only dream of. Dreams . . .memorires . . . they are what we know, what we wish to become true."

Ken nodded with understanding. "Yes, but there is also reailty to remind us of our love, our friendship, our lives. If there was no reality, then there would be no imagination."

He was surprised at his words, but some how, it made sense. Kimika smiled and nodded. "Yes, you are right . . ."

Ken then felt that he needed to say something. He noticed that the place was not real, after all. There was a haze around the edges of the vision, very hard to notice, but it was there. He suspected that the haze hinted at something. It showed that the place was real, but only in the mind. A memory.

"Speaking of memories," Ken said, "We are in your memories, where you first found your power."

"And faced the Stranger." Kimika finished. Her fingers curled around the doll. "There are many memories; mine, yours, and everybody else . . . I sometimes wonder if we are living in someone's thoughts, memories, dreams . . ."

Ken faintly smiled; Kimika can be dreamy, sometimes, but her words could make sense if he considered carefuly about them.

He heard his Digimon speaking, and he was startled. His words seemed innocent, but it could be true . . . "I wonder if we are living in the memories of the Final Evil . . ."

Kimika gazed at him, not startled or frowning, but pensive, as if she was thinking the same. Her only responses were a small sigh and a brief shrug. She then looked over to the Friend, asking, "Is there a way out of my memories?"

He  nodded in answer and his hand lightly touched on his crest. By his touch, the Crest of Kindness brigthened its lavender glow, filling the room and glaring off the shattered pieces. Within the light, a thick beam shone upon the air. He noticed with interest that the beam shone on the air, not in the air, as it should be. He lived in the Digiworld long enough to know it wasn't always the case. The beam appeared to open something from the air, looking like a hole, a hoe in space, perhaps. As the hole widened in size, he saw a new enviroment that he didn't hear of. It appeared that it was a beach, surrounded by cliffs and black waters that crashed upon grey sands. Two lighthouses, one white and another black, stood up on shelves, each shining its own color of the light; white and black, respectively. The beach seemed to be the negative dimension of a normal beach.

The Seer and Friend, along with Wormon, silently stepped into the beach, for words didn't need to be exchanged about the beach. THey knew that they needed to get out, and the beach had the sensation of safety. So they moved on.

However, there was a light, proud smile playing on her lips for her ward.

***

He admited that he was very surprised to find himself at the beach. 

Willis stood near the shore, watching the two lighthouses shining their lights. The white light, beside the marble-white lighthouse, was the only white object at the beach. It blinded him, but he would prefer to look at it than even glance to the black lighthouse. The black lighthouse spooked him. He didn't know why, but every time he looked at it, he felt a creep crawling up his back, tickling his neck. Cleo told him that they could represent the light and the dark, and he didn't doubt it. But it wasn't the darkness about the black lighthouse that spooked him. It was the fact that it looked . . .  well, solid, while the white lighthouse appeared pale, transparent. It didn't happen before. They used to look the same, but now that the black lighthouse looked more solider, stronger while the white lighthouse seemed to be wispy, filmy . . . he had an eerie feeling that he knew what did that mean and he didn't want to think of what. He didn't know if Cleo or Hikari noticed it.

His Digimon, perching on him, were gazing at the beach with deep awe. Terriermon usually got bored easily, he was brilliant and always wanted to learn new things. If he stayed in one place too long, he will die bored, he once said with a grin. But the cream-colored bunny, laid on the top of WIllis's head, watched the lighthouses with wide black eyes, unusually quiet for the talkative Digimon. Lopmon was different; It wasn't because he was mute, but it was because he was scared. Willis can feel the tension in the infantine Digimon on his shoulder, his tiny cheek resting on his own cheek for comfort. Willis gave him a brief pat on his head, careful of the three horns, his usual way to comfort the chocolate-colored bunny.

"Where are we?"

Willis noticed the dark agitation in Takeru's voice. There was one other thing that Willis was surprised about. He knew that only Digiwalkers can come here; not other Digidestined or Digimon can come here, and yet, Takeru and their Digimon were here by accident. He didn't get it how did that happen. Maybe the abilties of the Digiwalkers can extend to people who were near enough to make it possible for them to travel to the beach. Willis was uncertain about it. All he knew now was that Takeru was scared stiff.

Takeru was the last one to wake from the strange blackness, the blackness that Vampdevimon gave. Willis watched as Hikari tried her best to calm the blonde. He was frightened, his azure eyes wide and pale, as he gazed around. Cleo stood a bit away, had already tried to calm him, as well. Beside her, Gatomon was darkly silent, her wide ears flattened as she glared to nobody. Patamon was afloat, not uneasy, but worried, clearly for Takeru.

"TK, calm down!" Hikari held on his arm, gently stroking his shoulder until he finally gazed back to her. "Calm down . . . It's alright." She gave him a reassuring smile. "We are at where I first met Cleo as the Watcher, remember? It's safe."

_'Safe?' _Willis didn't stop himself from mentally thinking to himself, lightly frowning. _'I feel it's just false security.' _He should know to keep his thoughts to himself. Hikari and Cleo can hear him very well, just like he was shouting outloud. Cleo didn't look to him, appearing quiet, but there was a light expression of calmness in her face as Hikari turned her head to give him a warning glare. Surely, she didn't want Takeru to know that. Willis simply gave her an apologiziing look.

Takeru ran a hand through his fair hair, his other hand wringed on the white hat. Beside the fright in his face, he appeared confused as he fixed a gaze to Hikari. "Kari, you don't look scared . . . Isn't this the same place where . . .?"

"No, it's not," Hikari said, shaking her head. "It's not the Dark Ocean."

"Then why do this place look so alike?" Gatomon mentioned her first words.

Cleo answered, "I don't know why this place looks like the Dark Ocean, but I can assume you that it's a part of the DIgiworld. You have nothing to worry about." 

Takeru scowled, not believing. "Nothing to worry about? Is it _safe_?"

Cleo said nothing, her jade eyes guarded.

Willis felt the azure eyes on him, but he remained silent, remembering the frown on Hikari.

" . . . Kari?"

WIllis listened as Hikari sighed and continued, "It's one of the places where darkness dwells. THe darkness does have the power to lure us to attack us, but it never does. So far, it haven't." She placed a pink-gloved hand on his arm for reassurement. "Don't worry, TK. Even though it feels dark and frighteningly, I feel safe here."

"Yes, if it's possible to be safe in the face of the darkness," the blonde's voice snapped with scorn. His arms hugged around him, but it didnt' chase away the shivers from him.

Willis knew about Takeru's warm and hopeful attitude and the way he always did his best to cheer up people. He thought that Takeru would never get mad or hold any grudge over anybody, and that was why he was astonished to hear the scorn in his voice. Hikari and Cleo did nothing to him, just looked on with light worry, and Willis grew puzzled. Was there another side to Takeru that he hasn't met?

"What's the matter?" Willis asked as he arrived to the group.

"What?" Takeru turned to him, still scowling.

"Why are you so tense about being here?"

The scowl softened, but the fright was still there. "I just don't like the darkness."

The answer puzzled him, but he didn't ask any further. He didn't want to provoke Takeru's fright or anger, whatever it was present. He would be more than glad to help, but he didn't know Takeru well enough, and so he left Hikari and Patamon tending to him. He glanced over to Cleo and noticed that she was listening. Not listening to any sound, but using her telepathic abilities to listen. She was confused, her head tilted to one side.

He remembered that using his voice can stir the darkness and try to lure him, so he decided to use his mind-voice. _'Cleo, what's the matter?'_

The jade eyes met his cobalt eyes. _'Do you feel them?'_

He did't doubt that he had some limited telepathic ability. He just had the feeling. Some people told him that he appeared so aware that they thought he noticed something that they missed. He couldn't call that telepathic ability, but after recalling the ability to sense people coming _before _they arrive and to know what words a person will say before he said it, he guessed that he did have some telepathic ability. After finding out that he was a Digiwalker, he was kinda glad that he had an ability that very few have. It showed taht he was special.

He felt his mind's eye expanding, to feel the air, the space in between, and he suddenly received vagueness and manyness that it almost overwhelmed. He needed to take it easily. He stengthened the ability and began to notice solidity and existance of something. He felt the presenses of people present. There were many colors in his mind-eye, blurred and hazy, like a desert haze. The colors weren't stable, mingling into each other, but they seem trying to become stable, mingling and separating at the same time.

Willis frowned. _'What are they?'_

_'Our friends,' _he heard the soft pink tone from Hikari as she joined in. She appeared puzzled, too. _'I can feel them, but I don't get it. They are close, but I don't see them.'_

_'That's why I'm confused,' _Cleo nodded.

Willis was bewildered at that. Cleo's mind abilities were extraoridinary, powerful, and yet she couldn't sense the presences clearly? 

He heard the uncertainity in Takeru's voice as he said, "Why do I feel like you are talking without moving your mouths?"

Cleo's mental voice was bolder, meaning that it was heard in Takeru's  and the other Digimon's minds, as well. _'Keep your voice down, Takeru.' _The blonde and the Digimon jumped at that, wide-eyed. _'We may be safe here, but the darkness can hear us. I'm using telelpathy, so it won't hear me. Sorry that I didn't tell you eariler,'_ she added with a comforting smile toward them, then a quiet frown appeared. _'And yes, we are talking. I feel presenes of our friends, but oddly, I can't see them or find them.'_

Terriermon spoke, "Are they here right now or . . .?"

_'They are here, but . . .' _she palced a finger on her lips in thought. _'Their presenses are weak, hazy . . . lost. I can't find their exact whereabouts.'_

Hikari verbally spoke, knowig that her telepathic ability wasn't as strong as Cleo's. "Do you sense everybody?"

Cleo was quiet for a moment, her eyes focused. _' . . . well, I sense the Old Kids and the New Kids together, along with the New Digimon . . .But the Old Digimon are up there, somehwere.' _She pointed upward to the cliff behind them, towrad the top.

So that was what the colors were. They were familiar to him, but he couldn't tell what. Now he recognized the colors as the colors of their crests. He used his mind's eye as his real eyes, trying to see who was with who. All of them were very close together, but he noticed that there was a pattern in the colors. The first colors he saw, a haze of silver and lavender, were obviously Kimika and Ken, along as a small spot of lavender, which must be Wormon. No Iyumon here. Then the mix of midnight blue, fiery orange, and two ovals of peach orange idenitied Yamato, Taichi, Daisuke, and Veemon. 

Yes, there was a pattern. The New Kids were with their Protectors. He found it unusual. There was no randomness. If they were separated, it tended to have randomness and anybody would be with anybody. There was no way that the New Kids would be with their Protectors all of a sudden. There was something fishy going on.

He missed out the rest of the conversation, but he caught the last words of Patamon as he said, "Well, what can we do now?"

Cleo paused for an instant, then raised up a hand. When he saw her doing that, he knew why. She placed her hand in the air, looking like she was cutting through something. Her hand slashed down through the air, but to his puzzlement, nothing happened. She was puzzled, too. _'It's odd, indeed. I can't make a tear. We can't get out . . .'_

"What, a tear?" Takeru muttered. "You talk in words I don't understand."

Hikari tried to explain, "Cleo told me Digiwalkers can . . . 'cut' through space, forming in the air . . ." She trailed off, noticing the great befuddlement in Takeru's face. "Ok, imagine a blanket hanging in front of you and your desired area behind it. With a knife, you rip through the blanket and step through it. It's the way it works. We can step from here to any other place by 'cutting' through space." As Takeru nodded in understanding, Hikari glanced to Cleo with an anxious visage. "But if you said you can't make a tear . . . we are trapped here."

"Trapped . . ." Takeru made a dark grimace.

Willis quietly glanced around the beach. He remmbered that he had walked down the length of the becah. Despite the fact that the beach appeared small, the distance was misjudged. The beach was huge and long, the ends hidden around the cliffs. It was the same with the shelves where the lighthouses stood. The shevles looked short in height, but as you got closer, they became unbearably tall and steep. It was possible that while he can see the colors up-close, the distance between them could be far away, probably nearby to the shelves or at the ends of the beach, hidden. It was worth a try.

"Guys . . ." he said mildly, "May I suggest we go in groups and search for either the way out or the others?"

"Separating up?" Takeru raised his eyebrows at him.

"It's no good to stand here and fidget." Willis then mentally slapped himself for sounding blunt and was sorry to see the dark silence coming over Takeru.

Cleo noticed the mood hanging above them and spoke gently, "Willis is right, although. We have to do something and I do like to know why can't I feel the presenes clearly and why we can't leave here." She gazed around the group. "Let's see, I can take Kari and Gatomon, and the rest of you can go together. It's good enough, and we can call on each other if we see danger." Since they were telepathic, although limited, the Digiwalkers had made a stragery to call upon each other for help, for it could be quicker than using the D-3s or the D-Terminals.

Willis glanced to Takeru, hoping that the suggestion would ease his mind, but the pensive Takeru quietly stared at Cleo, said nothing. He then glanced to the two new groups and noticed the number. "Wait . . ." He reached to pick up Terriermon. "Terriermon, would you mind to go with Cleo and Kari?"

Terriermon cheerfully nodded. "No problem!" Terriermon was close to Cleo, too, and he hopped over to Cleo to rest upon her head. She chuckled at that.

"I would feel confident if you have enough power, in case," Willis said.

"Willis, we have our powers to protect each other," Hikari smiled. "You don't need to worry."

He smiled back. "I know."

He watched as the group departed, walked along the right part of the beach. He doubt that there was danger around; it's never been one, even though the darkness was present. His cobalt gaze returned to Takeru and he was chestfallen to see Takeru still in his dark silence, in deep thought or something. WIllis softly sighed and touched upon his shoulder to rouse him. "TK, are you alright? I'm sorry if I make you mad or anything . . ."

Takeru looked back not with upset anger in his eyes, but with troubled uncertainity. Nevertheless, he smiled back. "No, it's nothing. It's not you at all." He rubbed his neck, taking a short scan around the beach. "I suppose we need to move on, shall we?"

They walked in silence. Not companionable silence, but uneasy and awkward silence. Willis felt awkward, not quite as close to Takeru as he was to Daisuke and Miyako. He kept on wondering if he really did hurt Takeru when he mentinoed about separating up. Obviously, Takeru had been through much more than Willis had and perhaps saw the separation in a different light. He wondered what Takeru had seen in his adventures that sparked his scorn for the darkness. He began to wish that he would take time to learn more about his new friends and understood why they were that way. He felt left out, once again.

"Willis."

The Judge almost jumped at Takeru's voice. It was calm and curious. He met his gaze, which held demanding curiosity. He wondered what Takeru thought of him.

"Pardon me if it's personal, but you . . . are really changed from the last time . . ."

He felt his mood darkening and he made a dry smile. He can't help it. He knew that eventually, they will notice that. "Am I? How so?"

He felt the gaze getting off him. "YOu are not the easy-going amible guy."

Willis shoved his hands in the shorts pockets, his eyes half-closed. "I guess I have a lot on my mind lately."

A shake of fair mane, and Takeru gazed back intently. "That's not what I mean. You _are _changed."

The alabster-haired boy lowered his gaze. Unwanted memories appeared in his mind and he didn't make an effort to push them away. "Well . . . I suppose I'm still upset over the incident four years ago with Lopmon."

Lopmon must have noticed the tension in his voice, for he again pressured his cheek upon WIllis's cheek and the tiny arms hugged around his neck. Willis placed a hand on him, smiling. "It's alright, Lopmon." But he noticed the intelligence in the black eyes. Lopmon may be infantine, but he was smart. He knew his surroundings, and he knew Willis very well, even better than Terriermon. Lopmon gave him an unconvincing frown.

"I can see that you are still scarred from it," Takeru said.

" . . . Scarred. Yeah, scarred is the word," Willis agreed.

Takeru glanced upward to the coming cliffs; they didn't walk fast as usual. "I think I do understand."

"You do?" He couldn't stop the wariness from his voice.

Fortunately, Takeru didn't notice it. "I have to say that I'm still scarred from my terror of seeing Angemon deleted by Devimon. I thought I'd never see him again and even when he did come back, I was still terror-stricken by the presense of evil. THat's why I tend to get upset every time I see a doing of an evil."

The Judge slowed down in his tracks, watching him. "Is that why you are tense about being here?"

Takeru also paused, nodding. He gave the surroundings an unhappy visage. "It looks very alike to the Dark Ocean where Kari disappeared to. There, I felt the power of evilness. It was unsettling."

Willis's hand tightened on Lopmon's fur, feeling the softness. "Yeah . . . it's close to what I felt. But it's not because of the evilness itself, as  you did." His voice grew dark. "It's beacause _I _did evil, wrongly creating a Digiegg and letting that virus taint Lopmon. That's why I still feel guiilty."

"You don't have to, anymore," Takeru sounded gentle as he smiled back. "You know that it wasn't your fault."

Willis quietly closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't want to hear anymore about it. He knew that he needed to forget his pain, but it was hard to do that. He didn't know how. He heard silence from Takeru, and was kinda glad for that and at the same time, scolded himself beacuse he knew Takeru was trying to help.

Soon, he heard another voice, Patamon's, as he murmured seemingly to himself, "Maybe we have to suffer to get what we desire."

Willis opened his eyes in bewilderement. "What?"

Takeru was puzzled, too. "Patamon, wha are you talking about?"

Patamon, perched on his digi-partner's head, appeared mediative, his black paws resting under his head. His azure eyes  gazed sharply at Willis and they seemed piercing, bright. "Willis, have you forgave yourself yet?"

He blinked, wondering why he asked that. He gazed back, wondering if the words were just simple words to speak, but Patamon was too serious for his taste. Takeru was quiet, too, looking at him, waiting for the answer. Willis again looked at Patamon and shook his head. "No, I haven't . . . How could I? It's hard to forget what I did."

"I didn't mean that you have to forget," the winged mouse voiced. "Those experiences shape you into a better person, helping you learn not to make the same mistakes again." One of the winged ears twitched. "But the shaping won't begin unless you forgive yourself."

" . . . "

"If you don't forgive yourself now, you probably never will. Each moment is very hard to handle and as each moment passes by, it gets harder and harder to do that."

Still, Willis remained silent, not beacuse he wished not to hear it, but because of his awkwardness. He felt embarrassed to say that he couldn't, he didn't know how. His response was averting his gaze away from the sharp azure eyes.

Patamon's next words were aimmed to someone else. "Lopmon, did you forgive him?"

Willis was speechless to see the chocolate bunny bobbing his head in agreement. "Lopmon, you forgave me?" Again, Lopmon nodded, a mix of understanding and sympatheic in his eyes. Willis again was silent, his thoughts turned to a certain cream bunny. His voice held a hint of sadness. " . . . Lopmon may've forgiven me, but I dont know about Terriermon."

"I'm sure he did," Takeru was sounding positive, as always. He then crossed his arms on his chest, appearing solemn. "Honestly, I don't get this. Why are you so hesitant to forgive yourself? Ken was like that, fidgeting about if anybody would ever forgive him or should be forever punished for his mistakes. He finally realized that it wasn't good to gloom over his mistakes." There was a certain degree of respect he had for Ken; deep and honest respect. "Matt had turned against us one time, and in his shame, he left us, brodding. Gabumon woke him to his realization and he forgave himself." It was no mistake noticing the pride he had for his brother. And, also, there was dignity he once regained when he spoke about himself. "Even I felt guitly when I couldn't protect Kari from the Dark Ocean, but I realized that she can protect herself and I don't have to worry too much about that.

"We all have similiar experiences and we forgive ourselves sooner or later. We felt better and we knew it was useless to brood about them." A sympathic, not pitying look, appeared on his face. "Like Patamon said, if you don't forgive yourself now, you probably never will."

Willis couldn't keep a hint of a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. "That's deep, man."

Patamon laughed with amusement, glancing down. "Oh, yeah! I never know that my boy is a poet."

"Oh, quit it, guys," Takeru muttered, but not without a smile toward the silently giggling Lopmon. He than glanaced back, again solemnly. "But do you understand what I'm saying, Willis?"

Willis silently nodded. He thought so. It may be true that Takeru did understand how he felt, but even with his words of forgiveness, he still felt the twinge of guilt in his chest. It was hard, very hard to forget what he did to Lopmon. He knew, just knew that he just had to stop blaming himself and started forgiving himself. It wasn't that easy as he thought so.

Patamon was the one who gazed up in curiostiy. "Look, we are here."

A cliff blocked them from going any further. The edge ended up in the waves; the shore became rocky and unreachable. Willis took a look at the cliff, again feeling what he always got from looking at the cliffs; a sense of protection, mixed with a sense of tension a mouse cornered by something that he couldn't see. When he first got here and looked upon the cliffs, he almost lost his composure. He thought he would be trapped forever in the strange black-and white world with the icy-cold waters, the lighthouses and the looming cliffs. Every time he felt that, he wondered if there was a purpose to the cliffs; were they protecting him from danger or keeping him away from safety?

Patamon took off Takeru's head with a flap of his ears. "Do you think that we can get over up there? I could fly and find a path."

Willis shook his head, glancing up to the top, where it seemed impossible to reach. "It's useless. The cliff is like a guardian; it's too steep, too smooth, and even though you can fly up there, the top seems to be unreachable. It's strange, I know it . . ." He exhaled quietly. "The only way out is through a tear."

Takeru peered from the corners of his eyes in a doubtful gesture, then returned his gaze to the rocks. "So we are really trapped."

Willis turned his back to the cliff; he didn't like to look at it too long. "I doubt it. I'm sure there is a way out. Somehow."

A slow nod, still uncertain. "Well, at least, we aren't in danger. There is a positive thing about this place."

He wanted to believe him, but he said nothing. Instead, his eyes turned to the vision of his mind's eye, searching for the colors of the presences. He percieved that the colors were dimmer, farther, which could mean that they remained near the lighthouses. THey didn't move at all, except for that haze that wavered the vision and made his eyes water. "The presenses are farther from here, which means they are close to the Lighthouses."

"How can it be possible?" Takeru murmured, trying to peer at what Willis saw. "It's like they are standing among us, but not here. Like . . . like they are hiding in the air."

"Or hiding in another dimension," Patamon said thoughtfully.

He didn't have the ability to sense emotions, but he almost sensed astonishment in Takeru. "That's it! I remember! Yolei, Kari, and Ken walked in another dimension, which is the Dark Ocean. Gennai said there are separate worlds, including ours, and they are connected in a way. Maybe our friends are in an dimenion."

Willis glanceda at him in interest. "There really are other worlds?"

"Yeah, and there is a world called the Dream World, where our dreams and wishes can exist in reality."

He nodded; he recalled Hikari telling him about it in one of their converstaions. "Yeah, Kari told me about it . . ." His cobalt eyes then glanced over to where the Lighthouses. He wondered how they were doing. So far, he hadn't sensed any cry of help, so he assumed that they were safe. Still, he didn't like the feleing of this place, the feeling of being trapped. He decided to check on them, just in case. In his mind's eye, he sent a flash, a line of deep sea green to stroke either Hikari's or Cleo's mind for their response.

_Dread.'_

The Judge quietly gasped, for the sense of dread came from Hikari. The thick line of pink flashed past his eyes, leaving behind a stroke of dread. Something was wrong. _'Cleo?' _An instant later, he found himself kneeling down, panting, his hands gently holding his head, as Takeru was at his side, a hand resting on his shoulder, giving him comfort. Willis recalled that Takeru's power allowed him to heal varisou pain and injuries, and he almost felt the warm glow from the hand, could see the golden yellow light coming from it and filling him with coolness and relief. It helped him a bit, but the heavy agony remained in his head.

As Willis sat upright, trying to clear his head, Takeru questioned steadily, "What's the matter?"

Willis couldn't believe it. When he contacted Cleo, he received the most agonized pain he would ever experience. It was like a surge of heat, coldness, and heaviness mingled into one, pounding through his head, like someone was hitting his head with a hammer.He almost passed out from the pain. He quickly cut off the contact from Cleo, and the pain greatly reduced, although the pain moved down to his chest, tightening and seeming to fill his lungs, hard for him to breathe.

"It's Cleo . . ." Willis mentioned through clenched teeth. "She's hurt."

Takeru's face darkened with trouble and unhappiness. "Then we can't wait any longer. Come on!"

The blondes rushed across the shore, toward the lighthouses. It didn't take them long, for they got a glance of Hikari kneeling on the sand, with Cleo laying on her back, her head on the Saint's lap. "Cleo!" WIllis cried for his Protector, kneeling down by her. But he didn't dare to touch her, not wanting to experience the pain again. Cleo appeared unconscious, but her face was in deep agony. She also breathed laboredly, as if she was ill with some kind of sickness, her pale skin whiter than before. Gatomon was a distance away, her ears backed, glaring at everywhere but on her. Terriermon remained at her side, as he promised, anxious.

Willis looked up to Hikari, who was also pale, afraid, as her arms held Cleo steadily. "Kari, tell me what happened?!"

"I don't know!" her voice was strained.. Willis cringed at the fact that she was still holding Cleo, which she was suffering the horrible pain at the same time. "She suddenly dropped to her knees, crying out. She is hurting inside."

Willis urged to hold on the Watcher's hand, but the remembrance of the pain kept him back. He looked at her with helplessness.

"There is no other danger here?" Patamon was saying.

"No, there is none," Terriermon repsonded.

Who did it to her? Willis wanted to know. His face scowled as he watched the wrinkles of pain on her face. She was sick once. She didn't need to get sick again. She didn't need to experience the pain again. He wanted to know who did it.

_A flash of pale purple, in an vague shape of a person._

Willis sharply gazed up. He saw nothing except his friends. But someone was here. Hiding. Nearby. He tried to grasp on the vague purple figure, but it easily moved out of his vision, skilledly and smooth. He half felt that he was hallunicating, but it was too real. He _knew _someone was here. He wasn't mistaken. A glance at Hikari's alert face proved him right.

"What's it . . .?" Takeru voiced, noticing the sharpness on the Digiwalkers' faces.

Willis stood up, trying to follow the figure with his mind's eye. "Someone is here."

Automatically, the Digimon moved into a defensive position around the kids, their multicolored eyes heedful and guarded, their bodies itching to attack. EVen Lopmon joined his brother in the guard, his baby face deadly serious. Willis was furious; he couldn't take a steady hold on the figure. The figure didn't seem to play with him, but simply wanted to get out of sight. It was good at that. The moment he thought the figure was in front of him, suddenly it disappeared and he had the sensation of a presense behind him, the purple haze wavering at the corners of his eyes.

Immediately, it was there in solidity, clearly. But the figure didn't let him have the full sight on it. As soon as Willis just begun to turn to face it, he experienced an incredible push on his chest, a force like gravity upon his chest. It didn't crush him with the heaviness, but it had such force that he felt like he was pushed back by a giant hand. Willis was widly thrusted backward, skidding on the sand, eventually stopped near sharp rocks that were scattered at the base of the cliff. He quiclky looked up as screams burst in the air.

Takeru were also pushed back, almost tumbled into the black waters; he quickly crawled away from it, perhaps from the iciness. But Hikari had the ill fortunate as she was casually tossed up in the air. 

_"Gatomon, Armor-digivolve into Nefertimon!"_

WIllis exhaled a relieved breath as Nefertimon captured Hikari out from the air. He then sensed the purple haze by Cleo and turned his gaze to it. He was speechless. _Cleo? _No . . . it wasn't Cleo, but a Cleo twin . . . She was standing by the laying Cleo, her hands smoothly gesturing in the air. Telekinesis, obviously, as she used it to push the Digimon away. She looked so alike to the real Cleo, with the casual clothes, the short ivory hair, the jade eyes . . . It was not Cleo at all. The young face held something that pained him to look upon; something that related to pain and agony. He didn't know what. Her eyes were too dark, too sad, too angry. She looked ill, thin, pale in color, and there were sluggish movements hidden wihtin her stance, as if she was too weak to stand upright. 

"Who are you?" Takeru demanded, standing up with a frustrated expression. He then gasped in terrified startlement when the jade eyes turned to him. Willis could feel the shivers running in the blonde's body.

The dark Cleo's voice was weak, whispery, but full with the kind of anger ill people bore when everything were hopeless and they were angry with themselves, with everything. She may sound angry, but in her words, there was a dignity that she struggled to hold up. "I do not see any point to introduce myself, but if you so demand . . . I am one of the Dark Digidestined."

All but Willis and his Digimon reacted in alarm with various sounds of gasping and growling. Takeru frowned. "But that means . . ." Suddenly an understanding dawned on his face and he inhaled through closed teeth. "You are Cleo's dark self."

Willis then knew. Hikari told him. The stories that scarred all the Old Kids' memories and souls, perhaps for the rest of their lives. Each of them had their own pain and anger to remember. Hikari spoke of how it was possible to face yourself when you can be dark and corrupted, just like Ken and his dark personality as the Emperor. She called them the Dark Digidestined, the dark selves that rose from the darkness of their hearts and were used to face them for a particular reason that they didn't quite understand why. She mentioned that the other seven New Kids and Cleo were the only ones out of the large group who haven't met their dark selves, and for that, Hikari was thankful. She didn't want them to be scarred.

But now that there was a dark Cleo standing by the suffering Cleo, bearing pain and agony, Willis wondered if his dark self was nearby. No one was invulerable to the darkness.

"Bravo," the dark Cleo whispered with bored sacrasm. "If you are concerned about my identity, I shall tell you. I'm the Victim of Suffering."

"I ever knew she has one," Willis almost murmured to himself, but the Victim clearly heard him.

"She does not know I exist, although I am only the malady that once harmed her."

Nefertimon returned to the ground and Hikari slid off, resisting the pain radiating from the jade eyes. Jaded eyes. "What do you want with us or Cleo?"

"Nothing."

A dark scowl crossed his face and Willis stood up, daring to step closer. His voice was low, warningly. "Are you hurting Cleo?"

"She is constantly hurting . . ." The jade gaze didn't move from Hikari, as if she found something interesting in her.

"Stop it, please," his voice was not pleading. "She doesn't need any more pain."

"'She does not need any more pain?'" The voice was suddenly angry, snappy. Willis gasped at the waves of agony coming out from her. Pain was visible to him, billowing waves of silver-red rippling outward from her. He tensed against the waves, feeling the surge of agony he recently experienced. Her voice raised a otavce. "You do not know what is pain. Everybody suffers at a time. Do not deny your pain. Never deny your pain."

"Stop it . . ." Hikari was weeping, on her knees, a hand holding on her head. Nefertimon had dedigivolved into her Champion stage, probably couldn't resist the waves of pain. Even Takeru was affected, still standing, but hunched, his azure eyes paled into a woeful blue color, with his Digimon weakly flapping in the air. Terrerimon and Lopmon were huddled together, the brown bunny burying his face under the cream bunny's ears.

The waves lessened, and abuprtly, he felt the jaded eyes upon him. His gaze met up to her gaze. Beside the agony, he saw interest in the gaze. "You . . . I sense great pain in you." He frowned at that, and she gave out a simple shrug. "Oh, I do sense pain in everybody, but . . .you have pain, bitter guilt from hurting your Digimon. It gnaws on you, is it not? You seem a perfect ward for your Protector, little Judge of Justice, you both in such pain."

Why did he have the feeling that he was being tested? "What do you want with her? Or with me?"

"I told you already. I want nothing."

"Then why are you here?!"

Her voice softened, somehow, beyond the whispery tone. "Why do you stay hurt? Why did you not forgive yourself? Why will you not put yourself to forgiveness?"

Willis' s tongue was silent. He heard that before. From Takeru and Patamon. About forgiveness and why can't he just move on. He didn't want to hear about it. He didn't want to remember the pain he had lived through. Why can't they leave him alone?

The Victim didn't move from her spot, but he got the sudden sensation of her standing by him, her voice unnerving him. "WHy do you still feel guilty after eight years of pain, even after you got your Digimon back? Why?"

He couldn't say something, growing unsettled, wanting to get away from the airy, piercing voice. He shut his eyes, averted his head to avoid the jade eyes, but didn't cover his ears.

"Willis, say something!"

His eyes popped open and stared over to Terriermon. He didn't move from his brother, but he was glaring back, his black eyes with disapproval. "Say something! Don't let her defeat you!"

The Victim cast a brief glance at the cream-colored bunny, then back to Willis. "Funny that your Digimon encourage you even though he bears anger toward you for hurting his brother."

At her words, Terriermon's gaze waas startled at her, then it was controted into a solemn frown as Lopmon was shaking his head, as if was denying her words.

_Terriermon? _Willis mentally thought as he watched his Digimon. The solemnness on the tiny face was clear; he was angry. He never knew that Terriermon was upset with him for hurting Lopmon. He often brushed it off with a laugh whenever Willis asked him about the battle. His heart clenched at the thought of one of his best friends, the friend that he walked with in search for Lopmon, shared laughter, and suffered troubles for eight years, bore anger toward him and never told him. He was hurt.

He forced himself to pull his gaze away from his Digimon to the Victim as she spoke, "Judge, you are supposed to grant justice and grant forgiveness, and yet . . . you could not forgive yourself. Why is that, Judge?"

Why can't she just leave him alone? Why must he explain about forgiveness? Willis forced his teeth to clench together, but seeing the jaded gaze, the urgency she had to find out the reason behind his pain irriated him. Why should he tell that? It was his business and not hers. It was none of anybody's business. But then . . . After hearing that his Digimon was still angry with him even after a year when they got Lopmon back, he had to admit it. He had to admit that he didn't know how and found out what the Victim wanted with him.

He inhaled and spoke haltingly, "I . . . I don't know how."

There was silence. He never knew that silence can be so loud.The only response he noticed was of the Vicim's. Her agonized face was totally astonished, wide-eyed at him. "You . . . You do not know how?" Her lips twitched, and to his startlement, he heard a giggle from her. "You do not know how . . ." The giggle grew into a laugh that chilled him; it held no amusement, held no scarasm. Just chillness.

He missed the angry gesture toward him and, by an invisible force, he was pushed behind, sending him crashing on the rocks. He gasped at the rugged edges that tore at his clothes. He couldn't move far away, for the Victim suddenly heaved stones at him. He was agile in his movements, and he quickly dodged most of them, ignoring the bruises forming on his skin from those he missed. The Victim was enfuried and he didn't know why. She ws angry all of a sudden and attempted to harm him.

"Stop it!" Takeru ordered as he dashed forward, his tall limbs algow with his aura.

"Fool!" The Victim sharply pointed toward him. A shocked scream burst from him and his hands went to his eyes. Even from the distance, Willis could see the whiteness in his eyes. Takeru was blind. He dropped to his knees, yelling that he couldn't see, his body holding utter panic. As Patamon moved forward to attack, Hikari ran to Takeru, trying to calm him down. SHe knew it was useless, and a scowl appeared on her face.

She turned to the Victim and closed her hands in front. A pink beam came out vertically from her hands. _"Rebrith of Death!"_ Her hands came wide, forming a pink-glowed cross in the air. The light brightened, brushing against the Victim, but Death seemed to have no affect on her. She held a hand up and the light darkened into nothing, baffling Hikari. She removed her power aside, but stayed in front of Takeru in defense. The Vicitm paid them no attention as the Digimon kept her busy.

"Willis!" Terriermon's voice came to him and he turned to see him running forward. There was something in his eyes . . . wetness? "Willis! I forgave you!"

". . .  Terrerimon!" The Judge wasted no time; he stood up unsteadily, and reached to hoist him up in his arms. But the Vicitm's telekinesis pushed him away, back to where Lopmon cowered in worry.

The cobalt eyes darkened; a grimace crossed his face. No one would dare to keep Terriermon away from him. He had lost Lopmon once. He will not lose Terriermon. Then he realized it. His friends were fighting the Victim. Because of him. They didn't want the Victim to harm him or Cleo. But why? Cleo was well-known among the Digidestined; they would fight for her. But for him? He was the newest Digidestined. Depsite the fact that he was part of the group, he still felt he was an outcast. And yet . . . they fought for him. They defended for him. They . . . accepted him. They didn't judge him.

In that instant, thoughts passed his mind, relieving his pain and guilt. _' . . . I understand now . . . I know why I couldn't forgive myself. It's not because of the pain I suffered. It's not even my inability. It's because I'm scared. I was an outsider and I was too scared to forgive myself because I thoguht I was no longer accepted. But not anymore. They accepted me. And most importantly, my Digimon forgave me. They accepted me . . .'_

He felt it. It was new, something bright and powerful. He could see it, a light that brightened, growing into blindingly whiteness. He felt safe, felt secure. He felt like he was part of everything, part of everybody, and yet, he felt wholesome. He could sense everything within him, sensing his friends nearby, feeling their strength, their wisdom, their courage. It was delicious, and he drunk in the power. A new Power. An Armor Power, one of the powers of the Armor Children.

_"Heart-Armor, Energize!"_

Underneath his shirt, his Crest of Justice burst into bright light. It was full of energy, flaring outward with power, eager to show its strength. It was hot, burning on his skin, but he quietly accepted it, for pain was part of him. A new aura appeared around him, an aura of orange that was born out from fire. It flared and blazed, and yet there was security in it, giving out warmth that kept safety within. Rays of sea green, the color of his crest, streaked within the fiery orange aura, deep and intense.

His new powers gave him amor in the form of garments that clearly exposed his true purpose. A long-sleeved shirt was worn, reaching down to his hips and colored dark orange, almost as dark as the umber color. It was covered under a sleeveless jacket that was tight around his chest. The white jacket was closed among the upper buttons, but from the hip down, the buttrons were undone, setting the edges of the jacket in a wide brim around his knees. Bracers, colored snow-white, were grasped around his wrists, up to his elbows, clearly made for a purpose. His pants were cut for a hunter, tight yet flexible, and also orange-umber in color. The boots reached up to his calves, colored white, as well, soft and supple.__

Because he longed for a world where justice prevails, he was called Dream. 

As if he knew what to do, he came into a posture that seemed ready to hunt. His left hand came up and his aura formed into a long, existique bow resting in his hand. It was hued golden yellow, along with white tips and bindings, and was perfectly created for the short boy. It was the length of his height, and yet it was lightweight, easy for him to hold it in one hand. It was shaped beautifully and curved with an invisible string that was visible only when it vibrated in the air with a silvery light. His right hand came to pull back the string, the silvery light forming the curve, and an arrow magically appeared in place, also golden, long and light. He silently aimmed it and let it go.

THe Victim turned, seeming to know what was going on, and didn't even scream as the arror smoothly struck into her right shoulder. She jerked at the force and dropped down to her knees. Still, she looked back and gestured sullenly with her other hand.

Dream again felt the waves of silver-red pain, his bow vanishing out of sight from his weak control. He strained against the pain, the surge of agony through his body and head, but it was too much. He knelt, gathering his strength to fight against it. Rustling. He heard a startled inhale of breath, and instantly, the pain was gone. The waves were stopped as quick, and he found easier to breathe. Then he realized that he was flanked by two people.

He took a good look at his guardians. At his right, the male guardian was clad in green and white clothing that represented a priest. A long, ankle-length robe was clad, open in front, shaded a white color. Its hems were olive green. Underneath the sleeveless robe, the dark green long-sleeved shirt and loose pants, along with the white shoes held a ministerial feeling to them, divine and humble. The clothing were approaiable for him, for he was holy, peaceful, and fiercely protective. In his hands, a silver staff glimmered in the dimmness. It didn't appear to be made out of wood or metal, but out of pure light, solid light that was in the shape of a staff. Black digicode, he recognized, was engraved upon the surface.

At his left, the female guardian was the oppisite of the other one, dark, mysterious, and yet, she had a huge heart to shine its light through the darkness. She wore a robe made for females, long and billowing, along with voluminous sleeves and a layered hood that shadowed her face but not her eyes. The robe was colored pale pink, seemingly unsuitable for one who bore Death, with white edges among the hem, the sleeves, and hood. A white line around her chest marked the bodice line. She held a heart-weapon that was suitable and mismatched. A black-shafted scythe held high in her white-gloved hands, a weapon that the Grim Reaper would hold. The curved blade was silver-colored, but its edge was lighted with pink light.

Dream immediately knew that they were Angel and Dawn.

The azure eyes of Angel glanced down to him and he spoke, "Stand, Dawn, and we will fight with you to the end."

Dawn stirred into a defensive stance. "But it's your fight alone. You msut face it."

Angel leaped forward, his robes flaring in movements, swinging his staff. He wasn't meant to attack the Victim, but only distracted her from Dream. He narrowly missed swinging his staff past her side, or perhaps, he did it on purpose. The Victim seemed to know his stratergy and dodged from the swing and didn't counterattack back as Angel leaped out of the way. 

A pink light twinkled among the silver blade and Dawn pendulated her scythe. The blade formed a pink-glowed energy in the shape of a slash. Again, she wasn't aimming to harm the Victim, and again, the Victim jerked her body to avoid the impact of the slash as it crashed beside her.

A twang plucked and the Vicitim froze, looking up.  The arrow was aimmed toward her face, and Dream stood, his eyes holding nothing, watching her carefully.

"Go ahead," the Victim whispered, ignoring the shudders the other arrow had sent through her body. "No matter what you will do to me, you only add pain to mine. It means nothing."

"Why must you suffer?" the Judge asked gently.

"I am pain incarnate. I am supposed to suffer. I am supposed to feel woe, distress, regret, pain. Nothing else."

"Not even . . . happiness?" He relaxed on the string slightly.

A chuckle mixed with a scornful scoff, and she half-closed her eyes. "Happiness means nothing when I feel nothing but pain."

A soft sea green light gleamed among his bow and arrow and they vanished out of the air in an instant. Dream gazed intently. "Perhaps your suffering is not knowing happiness."

The Victim moved not, but she held a suspicious frown as Dream went to kneel by her. He gave her one of the rare smiles he had for friends, a tender and almost shy smile. He noticed that the Victim appeared slightly surprised and frightened. He gently wrapped his arms around her, careful of the arrow, and pulled her into his embrace. The Victim stiffened in the comfort and tried to struggle away. Then her body relaxed in his arms, and he knew that she was experiencing an emotion that she had never had - contentment. She gave out a soft sigh of relief and he watched as she dissolved intp digital pixels. He defeated her with comfort.

He felt glad, not because she couldn't live with happiness, but because he gave her a chance to experience it even for a moment. It was enough. 

"Willis!" He turned to see Terriermon coming to him, but stopped just before him, his black eyes concerned. "Are you alright?"

Willis simply smiled as Lopmon leaped in his arms, his own black eyes full of gladness and relief. Willis gave him a rub under his chin before turned to Terriermon. "Yes, I'm."

Terriermon seemed unconveinced, his paws wringing in quiet resignation. His head hung, his voice small and quiet. "I'm sorry that - " But Willis then paused him with a hand on his head.

"It's in the past," Willis said, smiling as Terriermon looked back. "Just be glad that we heave each other, right?" He hoisted the cream bunny back in his arms and cherished the moment his Digimon hugged him, feeling their cheeks rubbing against his face in affection. He then stood up, they clinging on, and arrived to where Hikari gently helped Cleo sitting up. The blonde had the glazed look in her eyes and she was holding her head. He rested his hand upon her hand, giving her comfort.

Cleo glanced back in puzzlement, her voice fuzzy. "What happened here? I'd have sworn that I saw another me . . ."

Willis griamced, for she now had a dark self. After what Hikari told him about the Dark Digidestined, he only hoped that none of the rest of the Digidestined would meet his/her dark self. Now that Cleo did have a dark self, he was disapprovalled that the darkness had to do such a thing to scar the Digidestined. What more pain must they suffer? He gave her a squeeze on her hand and said, "She was your dark self, but I defaetd her."

Cleo's face was like a strike to his heart; dread and terror reigned. "I . . . I have a dark self . . .?"

WIllis solemnly nodded. "Yes, but don't worry. She doesn't bother us anymore."

She appeared uncertain and looked away, confused. Willis left her be; it was no need to comfort her any further because she already knew. He just hoped that she would choose to forget about it and not fidget about it. He then looked up to his friends, this time seriously and demanding. Like his new clothes, which should have changed back to his Earth clothes, Takeru's and Hikari's garments remained the same, althought a little changed. He eyed the pink robe-dress of Hikari, her camera still there, hanging around her neck, and Takeru's opened robe, his white hat now gone, perhaps because of the changes of the clothes. He also noticed that Patamon and Gatomon didn't look surprised with their partners' clothes. He kept a serious gaze on Takeru, who looked embarrassed and awkward. "I believe that you need to explain yourself."

Takeru hesitated, not sure how to explain. "Well . . ."

Something else saved him from his explaination. New colors appeared on the air, five colors in total, and instantly, Willis knew that the colors belonged to the New Kids.  They were oblong-shaped and in the size of the usual height of the New Kids, the rose-red, peach, wine-purple, ice-blue, and lavender ovals wavering together. At the same time, the rest of the Digidestined stepped out, the New Kids and Digimon leading with the Old Kids behind. Willis noticed that the New Kids bore new garments, which meant they had found their powers. The Digidestined appeared puzzled as they inquired among each other and their surroundings.

Before anybody could speak, a pericing, high-pitched sound reverberated the air. Static, as it was seen on televisions, appeared upon Kimika, Ken, Jyou, and Koushiro, the white discharges distorting their bodies. Their faces controted, straining against something from the static, perhaps pain or distortion. The high-pitched sound didn't hurt the ears, but it was irriating to the sensation, almost like nails raking on ablackboard. Willis glanced upward and saw that the beach was also in static, as well as the waters, sky , and the lighthouses.

For an instant, the Digiworld was unstable.

To be continued.


	11. The Crest of Heart

A New Disclaimer made by Demidevimon!

The Trio of the D does not own Digimon. Read or I will steal your teeth.

Approved by Debbie (Dai-chan) copyright.

Children of the Digital 

Chapter Eleven: The Crest of Heart

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

Tentomon's fingers slackly curled together, and he again grimaced. Fingers. Human fingers. Not talons. He saw nothing but fingers in front of his sight.

Fingers.

Tentomon closed his eyes and gave out a quiet exhale. He thought that he would never be back into that strange form again. But he did. Back in that human body, without any of his normal attacks and the ability to fly. He remembered that he, along with the other Digimon, saw Vampdevimon in his human form and he caused this . . . static or something that 'activated' the human bodies. 

No longer, Tentomon was in his beetle form, but now in this vulnerable body. 

The fingers felt his body around, remembering the details he once knew before. His body was clad in simple clothing: dark grey pants and a dark red short-sleeved shirt, the clothing that represented his Digimon appearance. He was barefoot; for the first time in a long time, he felt coldness radiating from the floor. The coolness on his bare skin, the skin he never had, was almost enlivening and creepy altogether. His yellow antennae were gone, replaced by red hair, not as fiery as his Digidestined's, cut just below his human ears. His face . . . it was smooth, yes, but he knew that it was marked with six grey lines, like tattoos, three on each cheek. He remembered that he had skin, the color of a soft grey-red to almost match his shell, giving the hint of a pinkish-beige color that was closest to a possible human skin color. If he could guess what age he looked like, he would guess that he was about 11 or 12 in human years.

Tentomon opened his eyes into the darkness. He knew that the other Digimon were in human bodies, the sight of static upon them was unmistakable, but so far, when he woke up from the blackness, he heard nothing. At first, he was very scared when they didn't respond, but he was greatly relieved that he still heard the steady breathing of the Digimon. They are still alive, and he was the only one who was awake.

Feeling strength coming in his limbs, he managed to sit up. It was weird, sitting up that way like a human. Being a beetle, he sat differently and he didn't need to 'sit up' like Humans tend to do. Weird. Tentomon glanced around the darkness. He knew that he and his friends had to get out of here, wherever this place was. They were too vulnerable and it will be foolish to stay here and idle. Tentomon knew that it will be hard to escape, especially in these bodies, but they had to get out. 

Tentomon slowly crawled to the bars; he could see them dimly. He rested his hands upon the bars, feeling for the lock and such. To his total surprise, the bars seemed to dissolve under his touch. One moment, they were solid and secure, and now they were dust in his hands. Tentomon froze, feeling the sandy remains falling between his fingers. In his mind, two voices whispered: one encouraged him to escape with his friends and another hissed that it was a trick.

Yes, a trick, but they had to get out. Either way, stay or leave, it was foolish, but, having a choice, Tentomon chose to escape. He felt a bit relieved, somehow, that he was able to escape, and he crawled across to the cage that was front of his cage: Iyumon's cage.

In the dimness, Iyumon was just stirring. Tentomon recalled what she looked like in her human body. Her clothing was all dark purple with black and white markings to match her fur; a tank-top shirt and pants that were cut below her knees. Her skin was dark brown, almost as dark as purple to match her fur color. Her hair was short and colored dark violet, along with a red forelock to represent the red streak she once had on her forehead. Though, that she was the shortest of all, save for Gomamon, she appeared much older, almost as Elecmon.

Tentomon rested his hands on the bars, and almost suddenly, the bars seemed to sigh as they dissolved into black sand. Again, he crawled in. "Iyumon?" he whispered. He touched on her arm, and in the dimness, the ruby glow came out, lightening the area, as Iyumon opened her eyes. All the Digimon had the light coming out from their eyes in the darkness like beacons. It appeared that even in human bodies, the Digimon still had some of their abilities. While Tentomon's green light was dim and soft, Iyumon's eye light was bright enough to radiate a bit beyond her cage.

"Tentomon?" Iyumon voiced back, dazed. She sat up, holding her head, staring. "How did you get in?"

"I don't know how," Tentomon answered. "I just touched the bars and they just dissolved."

Almost suddenly, a doubtful look appeared on the lizard girl's face. "A trick. Someone is trying to fool us into leaving."

"I know that," Tentomon nodded. He knew it very well and was cautious himself. Though . . . "But we have to escape."

  


"We can escape if we have to, but we can't fight." Iyumon took a dejected gaze down to her hands. She clenched them, her lips tight. "Not like this."

Tentomon stood up, now more steadily. "That's why we have to leave."

Iyumon gazed upward to him, seeing the serious expression, and she exhaled. "You have a point." 

With Tentomon's help, Iyumon stood, regaining her bearings. Together, they headed for the cages that held their friends captive. They dissolved the bars down and woke some of the friends; the others had already wakened up and were trying to figure out what happened. For a while, the eight Digimon gathered their bearings, some encouraging to escape while the others were too doubtful of this strange allowance of escape. Eventually, Agumon asked Iyumon and Gabumon to go to the door to listen for any sounds and asked the others to advice. 

Tentomon had sat down by the opened cage, listening to some of his friends talking. He recalled that the Digimon has chosen Agumon as the 'unofficial' leader, although Agumon didn't see himself as a leader. Unlike his Digidestined, he was modest and mellow, but often in these situations like this, Tentomon can see Taichi in Agumon. Agumon had proven himself as a leader.

Agumon was the tallest, after Gabumon and Elecmon. He wore light yellow pants, loose and comfortable, along with a black belt around his waist. He wore no shirt, and the yellow clothing seemed to make him look like a sun for some reason. His skin was yellowish, as well, almost golden tan. His dark yellow hair wasn't as wild as Taichi's hair, but it had some wildness to it. He looked older than Tentomon, but in the same age range.

Agumon was saying, "I know that we have to escape, but we have to know where and how." He crossed his arms, frowning. "Even if we did escape, we don't know where to go."

"Agumon, we can't just lie around and wait for either the Digidestined, Vampdevimon, or even the Mother to come," Gomamon reminded. He was as small as Iyumon and younger. His fiery red hair was much wilder than Agumon's hair and longer, down past his ears and eyes, and his skin was as pale as his white fur, almost delicate and soft. He wore only white shorts, meant for swimming, and purple cloths that were tied around his upper arms and calves, obviously signified as his real markings. Although that his eyes remained green-golden, they didn't hold the light of mischief this time.

Gomamon gazed around the friends. "We have a better chance to escape in our bodies."

Biyomon nodded in agreement. "These bodies could be useful. We could try and learn how to use them." Her clothing was all pink, just like her pink feathers, a long-sleeved shirt and a short skirt. The sleeves were lined with azure-colored fringes, almost looked like real feathers. Her short hair was also dark pink with blue tips, along with her pinkish skin.

Biyomon canted her head to Elecmon as he added to her comment, "I suggest we leave when we have the chance." Elecmon was the tallest of all, Biyomon's head only reaching to his chin.

Agumon listened to Elecmon's words, and then his emerald eyes turned to Tentomon and Gomamon. "Do you feel it? The taint?"

Tentomon blinked, surprised. He didn't know that Agumon would still remember about the taint. Gomamon was surprised, too, gazing downward to him. Jade and green-golden eyes met, and memories appeared, most unwanted. Gomamon looked away, unhappy, as Tentomon sighed. Looking to Agumon, he simply answered, "Ever since I woke up here." Gomamon nodded, as well.

He was hoping that he will not feel that taint again, and yet he was wrong. When they were first human, he, Gomamon, and Iyumon were the only Digimon who can feel the darkness, the corruption. They didn't know how it could work, but it proved effective. They could tell where the darkness came from and how close. The taint had this foul taste, smell, and touch that Tentomon tried very hard to forget. He remembered every moment he was in the essence of the dark, he couldn't breathe because of the taint, couldn't relax because he felt like he was watched, feeling this . . . hatred and anger upon him. Hated him for being alive.

As he said, he did feel it after he woke. It was heavy and bold. At first, he thought that he would strangle in the thick foulness, but then he felt like that he was _part _of it, felt the very heartbeat of the darkness. It was very shocking to him because before, he only felt the taint, not _experienced _the life in it, as now. The darkness was everywhere, cloaking him like a blanket. Tentomon unconsciously hugged himself tighter.

"You can sense it in the human bodies, not in your Digimon bodies," mentioned Palmon what everybody knew. Looking up, Tentomon noticed the sympathy in her emerald eyes. He knew what she meant. When they returned into their Digimon forms, Tentomon, along with Iyumon and Gomamon, couldn't feel any foulness at all. After a while, he realized that maybe, being human, he can feel it, but even though, he didn't understand why only by being human, he can feel it, not being a Digimon.

"One of the advantages," Elecmon pointed out. "We could be more careful and alert against the darkness."

Agumon quietly nodded. "I agree." He glanced to each of the human-Digimon. "We leave now, but very carefully and quietly. If you find an exit, do not go to it immediately. It could be a trap. And once we get out of here, run for cover." The Digimon simply nodded, already knowing what to do. The blonde gazed over to where Iyumon and Gabumon listened by the door. "Hear anything?"

Iyumon shook her head. "Too quiet."

  


"Our voices are the only sounds in this place," Gabumon said. Tallest after Elecmon, Gabumon still had his blue-and-white mantle over his body, the hood shadowing his face. His azure hair was straight and long to his shoulders, tied back with a cloth strip. His underbelly symbol was etched on his bare chest, barely seen from under his mantle. His loose pants were dark yellow to match his former reptilian body. His skin was as yellow as Agumon's, and his garnet eyes were cautious as he often glanced to the door.

Tentomon heard the soft exhale from Agumon as he considered the dangers. "Well, let's go," he said, starting for the door.

Iyumon opened the door a crack and peeked out. Then she opened it wide-open, revealing more darkness from outside. With their eye lights illuminating the areas, they saw a wide stairway leading upstairs, and they alertly climbed. It didn't take them long, and soon, they arrived to a door, which Iyumon again opened. The Digimon found themselves in a hallway that seemed to reach beyond their sights. There was nothing special about the hallway, nothing that decorated the walls, except for the plain doors, which were locked and bore silence within. It was so plain, built with rocks and mildew. The air was moist and warm. There was no hint of any danger lurking around in the darkness, although, Tentomon still felt the taint pulsing in the distance.

"What a strange darkness," Palmon murmured. The darkness was the same to the night darkness: soft and protective to the eyes. "Somehow, it looks peaceful."

"Well, Palmon, I have to disagree with you," Tentomon said. "I still feel the taint here. The peacefulness could be a trick." With that, he took a quick glance to Iyumon and Gomamon. Sure enough, they appeared uneasy, Iyumon frowning at the darkness and Gomamon getting paler at every pulse.

"Even so . . ." Palmon fell silent, her eyes searching for something, and then turned to her friends. "I couldn't help but wondering about this Mother Vampdevimon spoke of."

"What is it?" Biyomon questioned.

Palmon had this pondering and curious appearance as she continued, "I wonder if you feel something from the Mother. I mean, when Vampdevimon mentioned about his Mother, I somewhat felt sympathy for her." Her delicate face softened. "As if she had suffered so much."

"I feel the same," Gabumon responded, although there was doubt on his face.

"Me, too," Biyomon admitted.

Tentomon said nothing, nor the rest. Did they feel anything? He wasn't sure if he felt the same as what Palmon felt. He only felt disbelief. He wasn't even sure why he felt disbelieved. Maybe it was because that he was back in his human body, his Digidestined was nowhere to be found, and . . . there was the taint that he still experienced. He kept silent, not knowing what to reply, and then Iyumon mentioned something.

She was staring at Palmon with uneasiness and quietly said, "Palmon, you said that you feel sympathy for her?"

Palmon nodded. "Yes, that's right."

Iyumon remained silent, seeming to try to get her words out. "I . . . I feel anger from her. As if she was so angry and sad and hurt that she . . . would do anything. Anything to ease her pain."

"Even to destroy the worlds?" Elecmon wondered.

" . . . No. To destroy herself."

Tentomon was taken back. This Mother wanted to . . . kill herself? He stared at the lizard girl, trying to read the expression on her face, but he saw only confusion. The rest was silent, too, horrified and uneasy. Then Agumon cleared his throat, also tense, but determined.

"We need to move on," he said, and that woke the rest from the horror they felt. They nodded and headed toward the darkness, their bare feet softly padding on the damp rocks. After a while, Tentomon began to notice something odd. He noticed that the taint has faded significantly, and the air seemed . . . messy. He wasn't sure what, but he felt like that he was walking right into another world that was not in order. Disorder. The walls became wavy, not stable at all, and the air somewhat rippled like water.

"Whoa, I feel dizzy," Gomamon whispered, his eyes shut closed. He grabbed on Iyumon's arm, she trying to keep balance.

"Calm down," Agumon voiced though clenched teeth. His hand was on the wavering wall, trying to get on stability. "We can do this. We can move on - " 

Silence.

Suddenly, Tentomon was in four places. He felt like that his mind, his body, his soul were pulled in four directions, and he couldn't tell where he was supposed to go. He had nothing to grab on, something that was stable and he stood awkwardly, feeling awfully alone. His eyes couldn't manage with the sudden ripples and disorder happening.

"Guys? Guys?" Tentomon tried to call out. His voice echoed back from the four directions, dissonant and unclear. He reached out, yelling, "Guys!"

A hand grabbed on his shoulder. He gasped in shock. The view was suddenly clear. Everything was stable.

"Are you ok?" Elecmon said, his concerned face appearing in his vision.

Tentomon exhaled in great relief, holding on his hand, trying to clear up his hazy mind. "I think so." He shook his head as he glanced around. "I've never been so dizzy before."

Elecmon nodded in agreement; Tentomon could see the fading daze in his teal eyes. "You were lucky, Tentomon. I caught you before you fell."

  


Tentomon cast him a smile. "Thank you, Elecmon." Again, he gazed around. After a moment, realization popped in his head, and he gazed back to Elecmon with puzzlement.

"Where is everybody?"

***

In a forest. They were in a forest. 

Gabumon blinked his eyes, doubting his surroundings. He _knew _that he was in the dark hallway, but . . . the sunlight shining from between the green leaves was too real. The scents of the trees, soil, and the air were too real. He stared around, disbelieving. How . . . did he get here?

"Where are we?" he heard Agumon murmuring. 

Gabumon turned to Agumon, who was also standing by, scanning around. Gabumon shook his head. "Haven't the faintest idea, though I think we are in a forest."

Agumon opened his mouth, and then stopped, frowning at a thought. "It was strange, don't you think?" he asked, turning to the wolf boy. "First, we were in that dark place and . . ."

Gabumon tried to remember through the clouds in his mind. "I saw a flicker of something. Not light or any solid object . . ."

"A memory."

Gabumon frowned in puzzlement. "A memory?"

Agumon shrugged helplessly. "It came to my mind."

Gabumon inhaled in a breath, again scanning his surroundings, still doubting it. "Well, I have no clue to how we got here. We have to find a way back to the others. We may be outside, but they might be sill trapped."

"Gabumon?"

"Yeah?" Gabumon gazed back and found Agumon deeply thoughtful.

"Is there something odd about this place?"

"What's it?"

The dino met his gaze. "Doesn't it seem to you that this place looks . . . fuzzy?"

Gabumon blinked. "Fuzzy?"

"Yes, fuzzy."

Again, he took a careful gaze around and was taken back at what he found. He didn't believe that he didn't notice that earlier. The forest looked very real, but there was something about it that was not right. There was a very faint haze around them, just beyond the edge of clearness. Much like he was looking through flawed glass, appearing real and yet hazed. Stepping around in place, Gabumon took details in the haze, trying to find the source or something that he could tell the meaning of the haze. Then he noticed something new. There was a 'spot' in the surroundings that was . . . clear. Very clear. No haze around it. It was a walking path, faint and almost hidden from under the bushes. 

"Agumon, look," Gabumon called his attention, pointing toward the path. "That path looks clearer."

Agumon nodded. "Yeah, I see that." He then looked upward. "And I noticed something else. Take a look at the leaves."

Gabumon blinked once again. He knew his wilderness very well, traveling often, and in his travels, he knew that the leaves were very different from the Real World's leaves. The leaves were always pale blue, dark pink, light red, sometimes white or purple, but never green. There were rare trees that bore green leaves, too, but the Digiworld was a strange world, then. Always any other color than green.

The leaves that he was looking at were green. Normal, dark green.

"It isn't familiar to me," Agumon said. "This place isn't in our time."

"Are we in the human world?" Gabumon wondered. It was impossible, he knew it, that any full-blood Digimon couldn't pass though the Digiports to Earth. No one except DNA-infected Digimon. Or Digimon-turned-humans?

Agumon sniffed the air and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. It doesn't have the scent of humans here."

Gabumon tasted the air and mentally agreed. No musky, warm scent of humans here. "You are right . . . Then where are we?"

Agumon gestured to the clear path. "Maybe this spot has a clue."

Following Agumon, Gabumon walked on the path. He noticed that the path was like a path of clearness through the haze. He wondered what the path was leading them to. Eventually, in the silence, he heard sounds. Sounds of a conflict. From the distance ahead.

Gabumon stopped Agumon with a hand on his shoulder. "A fight."

Agumon listened for a moment, and then glanced back. "Let us see."

As they continued down the path, they could hear the sounds of a fight. Gabumon felt his instincts bursting from inside, urging to run and face whoever was fighting, his protection intense. He, however, held it down, knowing that in his vulnerable human body, he was helpless. Glancing sidelong to Agumon, he can tell that the dino wanted to help, but couldn't.

  


There, they stopped and knelt behind some bushes that marked a boundary of a clearing. They were careful not to be seen as they regarded the scene before them. A human boy and a Gazimon were watching the fight from above. Two Greymons were battling, obviously for territory, as they snarled at each other on a rocky plain.

Gabumon stared in surprise. "A human boy . . ."

"That Gazimon looks different . . . " Agumon whispered in puzzlement. Gabumon took a look at the Gazimon. The fanged bunny looked the same to what they knew of, with grey fur, piercing black eyes, and sharp claws that seemed strange for a cute bunny. But he had something else that the other Gazimon didn't have. He had black stripes slashing on his back and limbs.

Gabumon agreed; the Gazimon was different. He then gazed over to the boy. He reminded him of Rosa, the Mexican girl he met. Tan skin, weathered by the sun, brown eyes that seemed to shadow the face, and unkempt dark hair. The boy was clad in rugged brown shorts, a dark green short-sleeved shirt, and worn running shoes. From the guess of the age, the boy was 11 years old. The boy appeared mildly puzzled and curious as he watched the finishing blow upon the Greymon with a Nova Blast.

As the pixels passed by in the air, the victor bent to sniff the pixels; there was no triumph upon his face and, with a simple motion, he stomped away, not noticing the watchers.

The boy made a puzzled grunt and turned to the Gazimon. Gabumon finally noticed the expression on his face. There was toughness, pride, barely seen from behind the confusion, in his face. The boy said to the Gazimon, "I don't get it. They fought, one died and the victor just left. What is the meaning of this?"

The black-and-grey bunny glanced back with mild concern in his face. "Felipe, you have to understand that sometimes it is necessary to fight, and sometimes it is not." He glanced down to the rocky plains. "They fought because they lived for it. Tragic, isn't it, that when you live for fighting, you will find your life much shorter."

Gabumon was confused. Gazimons were known for their love for fighting, and this Gazimon appeared to be a pacifist? 

The boy, Felipe, appeared lightly bored, as if the Gazimon told him that many times, but still, there was the curiosity reflecting in his bright eyes. "Will you fight? For fun?"

The Gazimon shook his head. "No. I will fight only if I have to."

Felipe was silent, thinking for a moment. " . . . Will you fight for someone?"

The bunny grinned back. "I will fight for you. You are my best friend."

The boy looked away, a faint scowl on his face. "I can fight for myself."

"I know, but you've been in fights before. It's never pretty to see someone getting hurt."

Slowly, an eager, prideful smile appeared on Felipe's face. "I like to fight."

The Gazimon was suddenly sad, gazing upward, his voice a whisper. "I know . . ."

And at the very instant, everything vanished into blackness.

***

Laughter. Behind them.

Biyomon and Palmon turned around just to see a Floramon kneeling up from under the sea of flowers. She appeared grinning to someone that was hidden under the flowers. "See?" she piped, "You can have fun playing with flowers."

Someone sat up, and they saw that it was a human girl child of perhaps 13 years old. The sight of her was something new and awed, for her skin was so dark, much darker than Kimika's, shining coal black. Her eyes were pretty and bright black, and her ebony hair was tight and curly, pulled into a bun. Her face was primitive in appearance and yet primitively beautiful. Her body was tall and slender, clad in a dark orange wrap that enhanced her dark skin distinctively. Red and white designs were embroidered on the wrap, seemingly powerful in appearance, and strange circular jewelry lined her neck, arms, and ankles.

The dark girl was grinning, her white teeth dazzling against the coal black skin. She remained quiet, watching as the Floramon picked up daises. "I will show you how to make a daisy crown."

Biyomon was surprised to find herself and Palmon in a wide meadow that seemed to reach beyond the horizon. The flowers were splashes of colors that were a mess to her eyes, but beautiful, nevertheless. She then noticed that there was something funny about the meadow. A haze appeared to cover all the meadow except around them, making the flowers even messier in colors, a clash of pink, red, blue, purple, and white among the yellowish-green blurs of tall grasses. She tried to figure it out. She had this strange feeling that this place was not real at all, but at the same time, it was real in some degree of reality. 

  


She pointed it out to Palmon and the flower gal's answer was that she felt that the place _used _to be real. Biyomon was baffled; first, she knew that she was in that dark hallway, then that distortion that almost knocked her out cold, and now she was here, alone with Palmon and . . . whoever the girl and the Floramon were. She knew that the Floramon looked different. While the usual Floramon had pink petals that were part of their upper heads, this Floramon had a dark purple petal covering her head and darker green reptilian skin. Her jeweled eyes were purple, too, not the normal blue.

Palmon noticed that, too, and brought it up verbally. "Look at the Floramon. She has different coloring."

Biyomon took another look at the Floramon and was surprised to see that the flower-reptile made no reaction that she heard Palmon speaking. The girl didn't notice them, either. Just as Biyomon and Pal were invisible and inaudible.

Biyomon placed her hand on Palmon's arm and whispered, "Look, Palmon, they didn't hear you talking."

Palmon kept her emerald eyes on the girl. "I wonder who is the girl and what she is doing here."

"Maybe one of the Digidestined."

Palmon looked over to her and she just shrugged back. It could be possible. Any human who was able to enter the Digiworld intended to be a Digidestined, Biyomon thought so. No other humans were able to, not without a Digivice. Although . . . she saw no Digivice on the girl . . .

The Floramon placed the finished daisy crown on the girl's head. The girl again grinned at the Digimon and spoke, her voice rich and accented, "Thank you so much! The flowers are so beautiful. I wish I could stay here forever."

The Floramon seated herself beside the girl, her lower body hidden under the grass. "Tell me more about your home. Aren't there any flowers?"

The dark-skinned girl shook her head; there was poise in her movements that made Biyomon suddenly saw her as some earth princess, a fey princess. "No. There are sand flowers, yes, but not as beautiful as these." Her rough hands brushed against the flowers.

"I do believe your sand flowers are beautiful. I always believe that everything is beautiful in its own way."

A nod from the girl. "Yes, I admit that my home is beautiful. The trees, grass, sand, and sky. They are beautiful."

The Floramon then grinned. "And you are, too!"

The girl laughed. "I don't think I'm beautiful. Pretty, maybe, but not beautiful."

"So modest," the Floramon clapped her hands together and batted her eyelids in a show of delicacy.

The girl cast a puzzled look, like she didn't know modesty, but then she shrugged in response. "I don't think that I'm . . . modest," she whispered the strange word. "Just . . . knowing how I look. I'm sure that there will be someone who does like the way I look, no matter how plain I am."

The Floramon chuckled and gestured toward the field. "I'm so sure! He will think you are beautiful, even more than any flower in this meadow."

"Is that . . . flattery?" The girl appeared lightly suspicious.

"It depends on how you look at it," the Floramon answered with an innocent grin.

That drew a light giggle from the girl. "I'm glad I'm here. I never thought I would have a flower for a friend."

"You are in luck! I never thought that I would have a human for a friend!" The Floramon took the girl's hands in hers. "Are you ready to go? We need to get there as soon as possible, Makena."

Makena . . . It sure sounded fey and rich to Biyomon. The dark-skinned girl, Makena, nodded and stood up in a graceful motion that sent her wrap-dress swaying . . . 

And just then, the scene plummeted into blackness.                                   

***

"Are you feeling okay?" he heard her speaking, not surprisingly gentle and full of concern. She rarely showed that to anybody beside her friends. He considered her as one of his close friends, mainly because he enjoyed annoying her. She was like his Jyou; she tended to snap back. 

Laying on his back, Gomamon pointed a finger toward the kneeling Iyumon, his other hand holding on her hands. He trained himself well enough to keep himself from giggling as he softly growled, "Remind me next time, I will sue whoever built that place!"

Iyumon's concern was lost, replaced with exasperated annoyance. Her ruby eyes rolled upward. "Get up." She used her strength to haul him off the ground. Gomamon wrinkled his nose in disgust. A swamp! Out of the places he would wake in, it had to be a swamp! He hated swamps, the bold odors, the soaked mud and bubbling mulch that gave him the creeps. He would never _choose _to swim in the murky waters. To his surprise, when he thought his clothes were dirty from laying in the mud, he was clean. The mud was real and wet, but he didn't get dirty.

And there was something else, too. The place was blurred. A light haze that tugged at the edge of his vision and watered his eyes when he tried to look at it, messing the swamp.

Gomamon covered his eyes. "Oh, someone please adjust the knob on clearness."

He felt a pressure on his arm from Iyumon. "Will you stop joking? This is serious."

He grinned. "I know that. I'm supposed to be the joker. I'm supposed to joke in serious situations."

That made her sighs in a controlled tone. She carefully glanced around. "Well, you are right. This place looks blurry."

Gomamon again looked, trying not to focus on the eye-watering haze, and he noticed a clear spot in the air. The haze formed a circle around the clearness, the details sharp and intense. He also perceived that there was a path within the clearness, a walking path left by Marsh Digimon, maybe. He showed that to Iyumon. "Look. This way looks clear to me."

  


She was silent, eying the path carefully; she always did that, analyzing it until it was safe enough for her satisfaction. Another exhale and she looked back. "Should we?"

"Why not? Nothing gets by unless we do something."

They stepped into the clear path. This time, Gomamon was serious, as he gazed upon the strange path. What has happened to Iyumon and him that separated them from the rest? He had this strange feeling that he was back in the dark building, the physical feeling, but his eyes stubbornly told him that he was here in the swamp. The scent, the sights were unmistakable. It was too real, and it could be real enough if it wasn't for the haze. That haze was bothering him, telling that this place was not real and real at the same time.

He paused in his tracks, along with Iyumon. He heard something. A voice, obviously a human voice. Singing.

"Did you hear that?" Iyumon whispered.

"Yeah, someone singing." Gomamon was impressed. The voice held high grace, sang with such a harmonious tone that it sounded pure. It sounded like an angel. "Very melodic, I have to say."

"And I hear Gekomon, too."

"Ah, carolers!"

That earned him a snarling glare from the lizard gal. 

Gomamon made no move to apologize, instead spoke firmly, "Honestly, Iyumon, you can get way too serious. Lighten up. We will find the others. For now, let's find what has happened."

Iyumon muttered under her breath, but then nodded. She followed him down the clear path, the singing voice leading them. He felt his heart melting at the voice; he never thought that a human would sing so beautifully. Mimi's voice didn't even compare that good to the voice; she may sound really great, but that voice was pure, full of innocence, and dreamy. It made him feel like he was in clouds, floating aimlessly, having no care, and yet, full of care, sincerity, and honesty, like a fluffy blanket keeping him warm. 

They took a hiding place behind a strange-looking tree with all its roots tangling out of the water. It was too thin for them to take full shelter, but at least, none of the group they saw paid any attention to them. There was four Digimon, three of them Gekomon. The other Digimon, an Otamamon, was sitting beside a human boy, young and small. Gomamon didn't mistake the tone in the voice. The boy appeared innocent, so much like Takeru and yet like Hikari, sweet, kind, and shy. He had the appearance of a Chinese, with deep black eyes as intelligent as Koushiro, the dreamy expression in his young face, and the small size. He appeared to be 9 or 10 years old, probably the same height as Iori, and his clothing was a dark red Chinese jacket with the buttons at a side and the high collar, dark blue wide pants, and sandals.

Gomamon then noticed that while the boy sang, the Gekomon had the awed look in their eyes, watching with wide budging eyes and mouths gawking. The Otamamon was grinning widely and proudly.

He felt a movement of surprised start from Iyumon and he quickly looked at her to see if she regarded any danger. But she was staring at the group with uncertainty, confusion. He patted lightly on her shoulder. "It's alright. They don't know we are here."

She shook her head. "That's not it. Look carefully. We are in plain view. They don't even notice us."

Gomamon realized she was right. Any of the Gekomon, or Otamamon, or even the Chinese boy could simply turn his head and see the human-Digimon, but they didn't even notice them. Their eyes passed over them like they were just part of the swamp, paying no acknowledgment. He turned to her. "We are invisible to them?"

Iyumon was still uncertain. "Like we aren't supposed to be here."

The singing faded down and the boy blushed at the wild applause given by the Gekomon.

"Fabulous!" a Gekomon wooed. "I never knew that a human can sing so lovely!"

The second Gekomon nodded in agreement. "Thank you for singing for us. We greatly appreciate it."

The boy made a small but respectable bow toward the Frog Digimon. "It's my pleasure." Even in the normal speaking tone, he spoke like an angel. 

Gomamon watched as the Otamamon stood up and was startled. That Otamamon looked different! His coloring was much darker than the normal Otamamons, with his violet-blue skin, black fins, and bright black eyes. Gomamon took a careful look at the Gekomon and once again found they were different, too. The Gekomon were larger than usual, towering over the boy by a mere foot, with longer limbs, and their skins were bright green-blue, not the usual pale yellow-green.

The third Gekomon spoke, "We hope you will visit us soon."

The boy nodded. "We will."

"Bye!" The Gekomon hopped back into the swamp. The Otamamon remained at the boy's side, and he was looking up with admiration in his eyes. 

"You have a kind heart, Sying," the small tadpole mentioned.

The boy, Sying, quietly smiled timidly. "They looked so sad. I just want to help."

  


The Otamamon cracked a grin. "How did you sing so beautifully?"

"My aunt taught me. I love to sing, and I like to sing whenever I feel sad so I can feel better."

"I like it when you use your voice to help people."

Gomamon frowned. Why did he have that feeling that the boy was a Digidestined . . .?

Sying nodded down to the Digimon. "Yeah, I want to help all the time. I don't like to see people being sad, and so I just want to make them feel happy."

The Otamamon once again gave him an affectionate grin and wobbled toward the spot where Iyumon and Gomamon hid. They tensed, but the Otamamon made neither move nor hint that he was aware of them. He turned to the boy. "Come on, we need to go."

Sying had a small bounce in his step as he curiously regarded the Digimon. "Tell me, why do we have to go to that place?"

"Don't you remember?" the Otamamon said. "So we can meet our new friends."

"Will they like us?"

The Otamamon laughed amiably. "With your voice and my charm, they will."

As they strode past, the spectacle went into blackness.

***

"Where is everybody?" Tentomon asked.

Here it was again. The distortion that seemed to pull his body in four directions. The air rippled in a haze that hurt his eyes. Everything was unstable and the only stability he could hold on was Elecmon, they hanging on each other. Tentomon thought he saw several people in the darkness, glowing in strange colors, like jewels that shone under a layer of dirt. Then as quick as it happened, the distortion faded and everything was stable. Tentomon swayed, hanging on Elecmon's supporting arm, blinking his jade eyes from the aftereffects of the strange jeweled colors. The people were still here, and Tentomon gasped, realizing that they were his friends. They stood in the same place, just before the first distortion occurred, and this time, they looked puzzled in a way that they saw something odd.

Shaking his head out of the daze, he spoke, "Are you all okay? What happened to you?"

They glanced to him, then to each other. He noticed the realization in their eyes and was suddenly curious at what happened to them in the brief seconds during the distortion. They gazed around, appearing mildly disbelieved, then Palmon spoke, her voice uneasy but certain. 

"I think . . . I experienced a memory."

Tentomon blinked. "A memory?"

Palmon nodded. "Yes, Biyomon and I saw a dark-skinned girl and a Digimon Guardian, a Floramon. Must be one of her memories."

Agumon was nodding, glancing to Gabumon. "We experienced a memory of a boy with a Gazimon."

"Say, we also saw another boy with an Otamamon, too," Gomamon said as Iyumon bobbed her head.

Tentomon was seriously baffled. Memories? New kids with new Digimon? They spoke so sure of what happened to them that Tentomon began to suspect the building itself. What had it done to his friends?

"What are you talking about?" Elecmon demanded, gazing at each one of the Digimon. "What memories?"

"We experienced memories that are left behind," Biyomon mentioned. Tentomon waited, but she didn't explain more. It was odd. They were so certain that they saw memories, but seemed not to explain more, as if they expected Tentomon and Elecmon to understand.

Elecmon was clearly confused. "How could you know that what happened to you were memories?"

"I just know that where we went is not in our time."

Elecmon stared at Biyomon for a moment, and then turned to meet the confused gaze of Tentomon. They felt like they were lost in these paths of conversation. First, they were lost in this huge, strange building, trapped in their human bodies, then this . . . distortion that disappeared the rest except Tentomon and Elecmon and lasted mere seconds before they appeared, speaking of strange memories and kids? This was too bizarre for Tentomon's taste. He rubbed his face and softly groaned, "You are not making sense."

He felt the hand of Iyumon rubbing his shoulder and was grateful for it. Tentomon disliked touching, except for his Digidestined's hands upon his shell and the only other touches he tolerated was Iyumon's and Patamon's, his second 'digi-brother'.

"It's difficult to describe," Gabumon spoke, "But what we saw are memories, that's for sure."

Tentomon removed his hand and gazed at the wolf boy intently. "Memories . . . memories that are left behind here? You mean disembodied memories?"

Gabumon nodded in response.

Elecmon raised his eyebrows and again shook his head. "Bizarre." He then glanced at the slightly rippling walls. "Listen, we need to get out. It's unnerving here."

  


Palmon looked like she didn't want to leave. "Wait, I want to know more about that girl. Who is she - or was - and why we experienced her memories."

Agumon rested his hand on her arm, smiling faintly. "I do want to find more about the boy we saw, but we don't have time. We have to escape."

Tentomon cast the hallway a suspicious frown. Would they ever be able to escape? The hallway was so wide, so long that the exit - if there was ever one - was hidden behind the dimness. It made him feel that the hallway was endless and they will never escape. The party moved on, the scout Digimon - which were Gabumon and Iyumon - checked the doors and listened for any sound that might hint an ambush or an escape. As they passed on, Tentomon noticed puzzlement came over Gomamon's face. The seal boy slowed down in his tracks and tilted his head to listen. Tentomon almost imagined one of his seal ears perking. He also slowed down, watching Gomamon patiently. He knew that Gomamon had extraordinary hearing and maybe he heard something that Iyumon and Gabumon missed out.

The golden-green eyes turned to one door farther back in the hallway that the scouts had already checked and Gomamon ran up to it. He knelt and pressed his right ear on the door. Tentomon walked to him, careful not to make a sound, and he heard the rest coming closer, noticing the seal's keen listening.

Gomamon slowly nodded and looked up to Tentomon. "I hear weak breathing."

Gabumon frowned, but Iyumon appeared thoughtful. As she walked up to the door, Gabumon said, "Even though there is breathing, the door is locked. I could bet it's a trap."

Iyumon quietly turned the giant knob with both her hands; the giant knobs on the small doors seemed out of place. The knob turned.

"Don't open it," Agumon warned, frowning. Iyumon shrugged, but didn't attempt to open the door.

"But what if the New Digimon are in there?" Biyomon said. Tentomon's heart beat. It was possible, and the poor kids would be panicky in their human bodies. 

"Shh!" Gomamon snapped and the voices faded down, waiting as he heedfully listened. "I hear a voice . . ." His face took on the visage of surprise. "Ruigumon!"

Tentomon gasped and placed his hands on the door. "Ruigumon! Are you ok there?"

He felt his hearing straining to hear her voice again, and then it came, very weak, fragile, but just strong enough to be heard through the door. " . . . Tentomon? Is it you?"

"It's settled, then," Iyumon murmured and with her strength, pulled the door open. Ignoring the warning in his head, Tentomon dashed in. The inside was darker, but his eye light brightened the tiny area. He saw the Butterfly, in her Digimon body, sitting against the far wall. Her limbs were limp, laying useless. Heavy chains were bound to her ankles and wrists. Tentomon thought it strange; to capture a powerful Digimon, one does not use mundane objects, such as chains, to keep it captive. He could feel the taint present, but he ignored it, wanting to aid his friend. He knelt by her, gently lifting her bowed head so she can look at him.

Tentomon lightly smiled with relief when the wide orange eyes opened into slits. "Ruigumon, are you alright?"

The orange eyes widened in disbelief, but she didn't make a move, being too weak. "Who are you . . .?"

Biyomon knelt by her, giving the Butterfly a reassuring grin. "It's alright. It's just us."

Ruigumon stared at the bird girl, then toward the bug. Understanding mixed with confusion dawned in her eyes. "Biyomon, Tentomon?" She then gazed toward the rest. "But you are in human bodies . . . How?"

Biyomon shook her head, standing up. "Later. First, we need to get out."

Tentomon watched as Elecmon and Gabumon took their places beside the chains. Using their strengths, they yanked the chains out from their holds in the walls. They came out easily, perhaps due to the mildew that weakened the stones. Again, Tentomon felt the uneasiness growing inside him; it was too easy. He ever heard Iyumon muttering the words under her breaths. The manacles were weak, as well, broken under the fox and wolf's fists, letting go Ruigumon's ankles and waists.

"Tell us what happened," Agumon asked gently.

Ruigumon delicately touched her tender wrists. "I must've lost all my energy from Vampdevimon's attacks and blacked out. I woke in here. I haven't the energy to fight."

"Let's hope we don't have to," Agumon added. "Can you stand?"

To answer him, Ruigumon boldly pushed herself on her feet. Being used to herself being strong and capable, she resisted Tentomon's and Elecmon's offers to help her standing. For a moment, Tentomon thought she could stand long enough, but Ruigumon almost tumbled down. Luckily, Elecmon was at her side, holding her upright until she regained her balance. Tentomon stood by her other side, letting her resting her hand on his shoulder for support as Elecmon helped leading her steps out the door.

  


Agumon ordered, "Iyumon, Gabumon, check ahead for exits and traps. Gomamon, Biyomon, you two and I will be the back guard. Palmon, help Ruigumon." The Digimon followed his orders, and in a few minutes, they were on the way. Iyumon and Gabumon vanished beyond the darkness, scouting. Tentomon and Palmon stayed in ahead of Ruigumon and Elecmon, the fox whispering to her, giving support and encouragement. The rest carefully watched the back, seeing no dangers so far.

Eventually, Ruigumon muttered uncertainly, "I don't like this. It's too easy."

_I thought so, too, _Tentomon thought to himself, but he said nothing, absent-mindedly listening to the faint heartbeat of the taint. He found no comfort in it, but at least he could notice if the taint was near or stronger and warn his friends. But then . . . will they be able to face the taint, whatever it was, and fight? They had no attacks, no powers, and Ruigumon was too weak to even face a Digibaby. He did not like this.

Palmon was saying to her gently, "We know, Ruigumon, but we just can't linger around here."

Ruigumon grunted, but otherwise kept silent.

Tentomon sighed, wishing that the stupid hallway had an exit. He then glanced up at the darkness that hung ahead and gasped. The heartbeat! It pulsed faster! He felt the taint thickening in his mind's eye, the greasiness and blackness smothering him. He recoiled at the sickly scent, his body trembling at the greasiness. He wanted to get away from the awful feeling, feeling so filthy and unclean. Amidst in the sounds of his dry retching, Gomamon was also in the same position, cowering from the taint, whimpering. Half-hearing his friends calling for him, Tentomon shakily gazed at the darkness ahead. To his horror, the darkness was alive, coiling and billowing like a slug of some kind. The darkness was out of reach, but Tentomon could feel it on him, its thickness choking him from air. Then he realized . . .

'Iyumon! Gabumon!" Gomamon screamed in terror. The lizard and wolf were in the darkness!

"It's a trap!" Tentomon managed to gasp. But it was too late.

It came so fast. From the darkness, chains, shiny and thin, shot outward, many flashes of grey, and Tentomon felt the cold chains wrapping around his body, limbs, and neck, binding them tightly to his sides. An icy-cold chain slapped around his head, he wincing at the pain, gagging him. The chains hung him in the air; he could see that the chains bound his friends as well, they struggling, but to no use. He knew it . . . it was a trap to escape . . . and he had led them to it . . . Tentomon fought back human tears and again strained at the bindings, wanting to break through.

Then he saw a Digimon coming out with two other Digimon in chains. Iyumon and Gabumon! They didn't move, lost their energy from struggling against the bindings. But their red eyes glared at the grinning Digimon. Tentomon saw her once, sitting on Vampdevimon's shoulder, grinning madly and all. The snake-woman . . . He felt the taint in her, as he felt it in Vampdevimon. She was not supposed to exist. Wrongly made. He fought an urge to avert his head away from the mad golden eyes as she voiced girlishly, "It's not a trap. It's a welcome from my Mother."

Just then, Tentomon grew drowsy. He felt energy sucking out by the chains. Panic rose in his chest, but he gave up. It was his fault to foolishly lead his friends to the trap. It was too late for him . . . Tears trickled out and wetted his cheeks. It was too late . . . It was all his fault . . .

Tentomon welcomed the blackness.

***

When she woke from the blackness, feeling the cold chains around her body, and remembered the recent memories, that was when she realized it.

Ruigumon popped her eyes in sudden start and wildly darted her gaze around. To her anger, she found herself still bound by the damned chains cast by that snake. Again looking around, regaining her composure, she was in a new dark chamber, this time wide and modest in appearance. The only other object was a throne seated in the center. He saw a small part of the darkness, softly billowing, on the throne's seat, as if it was actually sitting down. Around her, her new Digimon - in human bodies - were also bound in the chains, slumbering peacefully, unaware of their surroundings. 

Ruigumon quietly growled to herself. She felt most of her energy regained and she decided to give a try to break through the chains. Her hands were free, and they clenched into fists, she trying to using her arms to loose the chains.

"It's useless to break through my chains."

She heard the voice of the snake-woman as she came in her vision. She narrowed her eyes in warning. "Who are you and what do you want with me?"

The Cobra Digimon shrugged, grasping her hands behind her back in a shy fashion. "I'm Verzyemon, and I don't want anything from you." The golden eyes glanced to the darkness on the throne. "Mother only wants to talk with you."

Ruigumon was startled. "Mother? Vampdevimon said that . . .?" She remembered he said that when Cleo demanded of his reasons of his destroying. Mother . . . "What are you talking about?"

Her orange eyes were attracted to the darkness. It was shifting, twisting, moving closer. With a gesture from Verzyemon, Ruigumon was moved forward to the throne level, her feet barely touching the floor. Ruigumon strained, averting her head, but was forced to watch as the darkness melted from the hidden figure. Ruigumon softly gasped for the figure was a girl child. So beautiful, so lethal, and so innocent. She looked so human that there was no Digimon appearance around her. Seven years old, she could appear, clad in a waist-less dress, sleeveless and wide, billowing around her knees. The dress was dark black, soft to the eye. The simple, plain dress only enhanced her innocence. A black scarf was wrapped around her neck, high enough to cover her lips. But she could see the full lips peeking from under. 

  


Her beautiful mane was jet-black, swaying by a hidden breeze, almost blanketing around her pale white skin. A small black stone was clasped on the center of her forehead, round and shiny, and that attracted her gaze. It shone dark light, not the darkness. She could feel the warmth of the dark light playing on her face. The very minute she noticed it, the stone seemed alive, sucking energy, and data out from her, and Ruigumon drove her gaze away. What was that? What stone was it that had the power to suck energy? 

The most terrifying thing about the small child was the blindfold. A white cloth strip was tied around her head, shielding her eyes, and the strip was . . . bloodstained. Blood of whom? She was too afraid to find out.

Ruigumon felt her heart thumping wildly, and yet, at the same time, she wanted to let the small girl hug her, feeling safe in her motherly calmness. What was that abnormality? "Who . . . or what are you?"

The girl standing on the throne didn't answer, but tilted her head as Verzyemon spoke from behind, "She is my Mother. She is the First and Final Evil. Daematermon."

The Butterfly stared down to the girl in total incredulity. That child, that humanlike Digimon was . . . the very last evil that the Digidestined must face to free the worlds from? That beautiful, innocent child? 

Daematermon smiled under her scarf and spoke, her voice soft and motherly, "It's my pleasure to meet you, Ruigumon."

Ruigumon shook her head dubiously. "It can't be . . . You cannot be the Final Evil! You are nothing but . . . a child!"

Daematermon may have her eyes shielded, but her gaze was powerful and deep that Ruigumon felt like she was exposed to her, her soul and mind fully opened to see. Nothing can be hidden from Daematermon's eyes. The girl reached out a tiny hand with long fingers and very lightly touched on Ruigumon's cheek. The Butterfly bristled and gave out an agonized scream, for the gentle wisps of the fingers sent powerful surges of fire, fire that burned from within, flashes of red gusting through her face. 

As the scream faded into sobs, Daematermon whispered, "Can a child burn you like this? And can she soothe you like this?"

The fingers again stroked her burning cheek, and Ruigumon felt silent in awe as the touches spread coldness and soothed the burns immediately. The coldness relaxed her tense muscles and encouraged her to go to slumber and be safe in the child's darkness. Ruigumon fought to stay awake and only stared back in speechless wariness. She even found herself semi-consciously pushing her cheek against the motherly touch, feeling awe and reverence in her. She told herself repeatedly that Daematermon was nothing but a child and could not be the Final Evil, and yet after what she did to her, she was fully convinced that the child was the Final Evil. If this child held power that no one ever know or face before, how could the Digidestined be able to face her?

Daematermon was smiling at her silence and leaned against the back of the throne, gazing quietly. Eventually, she spoke, "I can see in your beautiful eyes that you seek answers to your child's secrets."

"What child?" Ruigumon was puzzled at the change of the subject.

"Your Watcher."

Ruigumon inhaled sharply, her temper flaring. "If you every try to lay a hand on her, I will - !" She couldn't finish her sentence, for it ended into a series of growls, the energetic Digimon eager to try her strength on the Final Evil, even though she knew it was folly. Yet, anything to keep Cleo away from that . . . child . . .

Daematermon's lips pouted and the black mane swayed as she shook her head once. "I have no desire to hurt her. I only want the crest she carries."

"Her crest?"

'The crest is never hers. She only found it. She thought it's hers, but actually, it doesn't belong to her."

Ruigumon scowled. "You speak vaguely."

Daematermon's head turned a bit to glance at the slumber human-Digimon. "You will find out in time, Ruigumon, that your child is carrying an object that I cherish to have." Then her blindfolded gaze was sharp as it turned back to her. "Whoever dares to keep it away from me shall suffer."

Again, the warning growls. "You . . . stay away from her."

The Daemon Mother remained silent, staring back, then again shook her head once. "I do not want her. Only the crest."

"And the destruction of the worlds, I believe," Ruigumon snapped.

To her surprise, the girl seemed hurt and sad. "No."

" . . . No?"

Daematermon slightly bowed her head. "Why should I? The world means nothing to me; everything means nothing to me . . . except for the Crest."

Ruigumon heard no desire or no greed in her voice, but there was sadness to the tone, the sadness that she lost everything and the only meaning in her life was to have the Crest. It baffled Ruigumon. The Final Evil was sad and she wished to have the Crest to complete her life? She seemed so lost that Ruigumon almost didn't resist the yearning to embrace the Daemon Mother in her arms. It was no trick, she knew it. Daematermon was truly sad and lost. But it confused her . . . Why was that this lost child Digimon the Final Evil? What did that mean?

"I don't understand . . ." she whispered.

  


"And never you will," Daematermon responded before the darkness took her. But she didn't leave the throne and Ruigumon only stared at it, left in her confused musings.

***

As quick as it appeared, the static diminished from the scenery, from the air, from the four Digidestined's bodies. The high-pitched shriek quieted into the whispering breezes that suddenly appeared from the static. The static may be gone, but the distortion remained, the very edges of the vision hazy and eye-watering. The haze faded, as well, but Taichi had the feeling that it wasn't the last time he saw the static. His mind then turned to the concern of the affected Digidestined. The static affected Ken, Kimika, Koushiro, and Jyou, and he didn't know how deep, but it affected them enough that left them weak. They seemed to collapse from within, gasping for breath and their limbs shaking from the strain.

He knelt by his best friend, making sure she was alright - apparently, she wasn't, and he looked around the rest of the Digidestined who huddled around the affected ones. "What happened to you?"

Kimika and Koushiro were silent, too shaken to respond and Ken appeared greatly confused as he looked down to his trembling hands. But Jyou was stable enough to respond. He was shaking his head of blue-black hair, looking cautious of something. "I don't know . . . It went so fast . . . But I think I'm fine."

The other affected ones responded in awkward agreement. But Taichi wasn't convinced. He noticed something that he hasn't seen in four years. It was so familiar that he feared that it has happened all over again. The four Digidestined's skins were blanched so white that they were sickly pale. Yet they didn't _look_ sick at all, but just exhausted, and their limbs were still shaking slightly, as if they experienced something terrible. That happened before, when they were marked by Amayamon and were taken away. Taichi frowned, where did Ken fit in, then?

Taichi felt that it wasn't important this time. What was important was that everybody was back together. Except for the Old Digimon, but Taichi felt confident, felt that even though they were separated, they will handle themselves fine. Still . . . he wondered what happened to Agumon . . .

He stood up and took sharp glances at the New Kids. Like Daisuke, their clothes were changed; the colors matched the colors of their D-3s. Taichi guessed that they must have found their powers, which bewildered him. He never knew that there were other actual powers, powers that were used by other Digidestined. Why didn't he know about it before? But then, he never knew about his own power until he found it on his own. He also noticed that Takeru and Hikari had their new clothes as well, and he suspected. Still, he knew that it was time to calm the Digidestined down and find out what happened so far.

He glanced to the orange-clad hunter - Willis, he thought and wondered why he saw the reserved blonde as a hunter - and asked, "Willis, is it really safe here?" He didn't doubt the quiet nod and turned to his friends. His voice attracted their attention. "Then I believe that it's better for us to rest and tell what is going on here, shall we?"

The Digidestined took this rare time to rest ever since the picnic. How many days since, they didn't know, but they knew that it was very long since. They felt fatigued and worn-out. The unnatural sleep from Vampdevimon's attack didn't offer refreshment, and some of the Digidestined were more than ready to slumber at the spot. Even the Digimon were silent, seriously using the rest to gather their energies. Taichi didn't want them to sleep, not yet, not in this strange place. But they were glad of the rest and wisely used the time to quietly listen to the New Kids as they explained what happened.

The powers were the entertainment, explaining about how they got their powers and faced the strange Dark Digidestined. When they came around to the dolls, these roused the Old Kids. Taichi remained silent, the best way to think through his thoughts and hear what his friends said at the same time.

"Now I remember," Frankie was the first one to speak. He glanced to the Old Kids. "You told me about the dolls, but I thought the dolls were gone."

"I kept them as secrets," Takeru admitted, looking vaguely puzzled as he glanced to the dolls. "I kept them in my closets ever since. No one else knows that I actually kept them except Patamon."

His brother frowned. "Why did you keep them?"

The younger brother shrugged. "I don't think that the dolls would not be used again."

It was no mistake that the dolls were used by Puppetmon, despite the changes. Yamato shook his head. "Someone must've known about the dolls."

Willis quietly said, "Perhaps one of the Dark Digimon?"

Iori glanced to him. "Do you think Vampdevimon is the one who is responsible?"

"That or Verzyemon or even the Final Evil."

The Seeker lightly frowned in disagreement. "Even if one of them is responsible, a Digimon cannot enter Earth without a Digivice."

"Except for a Digimon infected with Human DNA," Koushiro reminded.

"Verzyemon . . ." Mimi murmured and turned to the others, "She is infected with Human DNA. She has a human form, just like Arukenimon and Mummymon."

Daisuke closed his tawny eyes and crossed his arms. "How could it be? Oikawa didn't create any more Digimon."

"I don't think he is responsible," Kimika pondered. "Someone else might have."

The Keeper frowned, resting his chin on his fists. "A new Digimon infected with Human DNA and someone else knows about the dolls . . . Something's up."

  


"Of course, something's up," Yamato muttered.

"No, no, wait. If Verzyemon knows about the dolls, what does she want with them?" Frankie gestured down to his doll. "The dolls were used to control your bodies before, right?"

As the older Digidestined nodded, Iori wondered, "But this time, they weren't used for that. We believe that your dark selves possessed them . . ."

As he vaguely listened to his sister's demand for the purpose, Taichi glanced across to Cleo, who sat by Koushiro, resting her head on his shoulder. She appeared confused and deep in her thought. He saw no doll in her hands, and he wondered if she did see her dark self. He didn't know if it was possible, but how else did Willis use his new power for? She did look like she saw something scary, and maybe she did meet her dark self. Even so, where was that doll the dark Cleo possessed?

His attention turned to Koushiro as the redhead explained, "It's a probability that the dolls were used to separate us and put us in the memories."

"Trapped in our memories . . ." Kimika quietly murmured.

Koushiro nodded. "Right. I assure that whoever controlled the dolls is trying to separate all of us, Digidestined and Digimon."

The black-clad Ken added, "So we will be powerless and alone . . ."

Jyou shifted with a solemnity that kept Taichi's curiosity up. "It seems as if the Final Evil is trying to get us out of the way."

Michael turned to him, also puzzled as the rest. "Out of the way?"

"To get something. Something that might be of importance to her."

"Her?"

The dusky eyes held certainty that made Taichi's neck hairs stand. "The Final Evil. Vampdevimon's 'Mother'. I don't know why, but it makes me think that the Final Evil is a she."

Taichi's attention shifted to Daisuke, who grinned. Now what was he thinking about? Then Taichi had to chuckle at him as he voiced, "Of course . . . a female is more deadly than a male."

"Oh, really?" Miyako gave one of her trademark glares that could melt Daisuke, but it only drew another grin from the Brother. 

The brief humor did lighten up the dark mood and the Digidestined and Digimon laughed, chuckled, or smiled, finally relaxed from the dark hours they once again experienced through. Taichi wished it would last longer, but he was aware that he and his friends weren't finished. There was one thing left. Taichi cleared his throat, resting his elbows on his knees, as he said, "I know one thing . . . we won't finish anything if we sit around." He again intently gazed around the group. "I'm also curious about Verzyemon, Vampdevimon, and this Final Evil, but first things first. We need to find our Digimon." The worry and concern appeared in the older Digidestined. "They are somewhere, probably needing us. We need to find a way out of here and find the Digimon."

"There is a problem . . ." Taichi looked over to Cleo, who sat upright, looking uncertain. "We can't get out."

"Excuse me?"

"We are stuck here. Something is blocking us from leaving."

Taichi closed his eyes, sighing. That was not what he needed to hear. But he was glad that Miyako took up his role and asked, "Maybe you can call for help from outside . .  ."

"Doesn't work. I couldn't even call Prophetmon."

"Cleo, what is blocking us?" he heard a hint of worry beneath the aloof tone in Yamato.

Taichi gazed to Cleo, who had the apologetic look on her face. "I can't identify it . . . Something is out here, but I couldn't tell what." With that, her gaze met his gaze, and for some reason, Taichi didn't like the way she looked at him. It was like pity and weak self-confidence. That was ridiculous, he knew that. She can't be going around, apologizing to everybody when she couldn't find something worthwhile and meekly departing without a word of encouragement. That was not the Cleo he knew. He knew that he really wanted to find Agumon, but he won't accept any meekness. He wanted to see more effort. Especially from her.

"Tai?" he gazed over to Mimi, her face gentle. "I meant to tell you that I'm feeling our Digimon's essences. Although . . ."

"What's it?" Sora asked.

Mimi's hazel eyes glanced upward, in thought. "It's quite odd. Normally, our Digimon share our essences, so I would feel one essence, not two . . . But now, their essences are separated from ours."

Taichi frowned in puzzlement as Sora continued, "Do you sense their locations?"

Mimi stood and pointed toward the top of the cliff where they sat near. "Over there."

Some of the Digidestined stood and craned their heads for a better look. Taichi attempted to see something upon the top. All he saw was thick grey clouds coiling at the edge. It was impossible to see the very top unless you had a flying ability. 

"In that castle?"

  


Taichi turned at Kimika's voice. She was standing near the shore, her head bending, but her brown eyes seemed to have locked on a spot somewhere on the cliff. Several kids and Digimon followed her on the shore and tried to see.

"What castle?" Willis murmured. "I don't see anything." 

Kimika pointed. "The castle is very dark, vague, but I see it. It's right there, on the top."

Taichi watched carefully at the smaller group. He noticed that Jyou, Ken, and Koushiro had the same expression as Kimika's, aware and certain, just as they did see the castle, as well. They murmured agreements with Kimika, pointing and describing the appearances of the hidden castle. Taichi moved to Kimika's side and let her guide his sight on the top. He saw nothing. Nothing but clouds. He stared until his eyes watered, and he sighed rubbing them. He gazed around his friends and decided it. 

"Castle or not, out Digimon are out there. We have to go there." He turned to the sitting Cleo. "Cleo, can we go there?"

The Watcher calmly shook her head. "The cliffs block us and no matter how high you guys fly to there, you will be blocked from reaching it."

The calmness in her voice, the trapped feeling from the cliffs upset him. His voice rose as he glared toward Cleo. "There must be a way! I'm worried about Agumon!" Then he mentally slapped himself for snapping out from his self-control. He rubbed his head, keeping his eyes closed to avoid the look on Cleo. But he did apologize. "Sorry, Cleo."

"It's alright, Tai." The voice was soft, but her iridescent voice in his mind was sharp, unhappy. _'I am worried about our Digimon. But it's not necessary to snap at me when I have no answers.'_

Taichi quietly met her gaze, which was also sharp, and mental-spoke back, _'What about Prophetmon? He knows everything.' _It was just a response, to explain why he was upset. But he held truth in his words. Since Prophetmon was so smart and so omniscient, why in the heck did he leave them in here, this trapped place? And even if he did know about this place, he should at least let Cleo know the way out. Cleo did answer back, again with that pitying look.

Taichi knew there was awkward silence between them and the rest kept silent, wisely knowing not to interpret or calm them that quick. He discerned a flash of yellow and he turned to see Iori walking up to his side. There was determination in his face.

"Taichi-san . . ." the youngest Digidestined voiced. "It might sound crazy to you, but I think I might have a way out."

Taichi would mutter under his breath at the false hope, but seeing the honesty in the boy's face, he assumed that it was possible to have a way out. "Is that so, Cody?"

The sierra-haired boy nodded. "I believe our crests can show the way." In his small hands, the Crest of Wisdom was glowing dimly, rays of dark purple-red spreading. 

The leader lightly frowned and glanced to the other New Crests. Sure enough, they were glowing, still glowing ever since the Digidestined got out from their memories. Ice blue, sea green, lavender, rose-red, and soft orange lights bathed the nearby kids and Digimon in their colors. The New Kids didn't seem surprised at all, looking thoughtful as they gazed at their crests.

Iori again got Taichi's attention. "Our crests were pointing at that black lighthouse ever since we got here." Sure enough, as he remarked, the crests focused their glows toward the strange black-stone lighthouse, thin beams shining in that direction. He knew that the Digiworld worked in funny ways, and he didn't find any doubt or disbelief in this possibility. It was a positive thing; the crests might have a way out. The crests never failed them.

Koushiro's voice spoke, "I don't think it sounds crazy. After all, you were the ones who guided us out from our memories. It's a probability that you might show the way out."

"And probably to your Digimon."

Yes, the crests never failed them, but not always in a good way. Taichi turned to them, saying, "Let us not keep our hopes too high. We must expect mistakes, distractions that might appear."

Miyako's dun eyes bore at him, holding persistence. "But it would be worth a try."

Taichi allowed a faint smile on his face; once again, he was glad that he picked her. He then looked to his friends, who nodded agreement. Better than stand around, doing nothing. The New Kids led them toward the Black Lighthouse. The shelf was surprisingly steep; he misinterpreted the distance. At first, he thought it was shallow and easy to walk upon, but the stones were rugged, sharp enough to scratch through the boots and moccasins, and steep enough that the kids had to focus on using handholds and footholds to climb. Luckily, the top of the shelf was wide and level enough for everybody to stand on. The lighthouse was enormous in size and height, its top was gone within the clouds, but the beam of black light was easily noticed. While the white light from the other lighthouse was bright enough to blind eyes, the black light was too dark to allow anybody to see through. It didn't give the sensation of blindness, although. 

Taichi tore his gaze from the black light toward the lighthouse itself. There was a door, indeed, arched and just big enough for an army to march in. But he saw no lock, latch, or even a knob. A door without a way to open. "I have checked the door, but there is no lock," Cleo murmured as she frowned. "And how can the Black Lighthouse lead us to the way out?"

Her ward shrugged as he walked up to the lighthouse alone. He placed his hands on the surface and Taichi wondered what he felt, coldness or just stability in this strange place. Willis spoke, "Maybe there is a lock that we don't see . . ."

  


The sea green light shifted as he kept his crest directly to face the door. The light shrunk into a shape that seemed a piece of a circle, a tiny arch of sea-green, shining on the black surface. The New Kids stepped forward, shifting the lights. They also formed arches and they matched, somehow, into a shape . . . Taichi was puzzled; the shape looked like a twisted circle, the eight-shaped symbol for infinity. He heard a soft gasp and that was from Cleo. She appeared confused, but he suspected she remembered something once forgotten.

The twisted circle brightened for a bit, and he heard a click from behind the door. The Digidestined moved back to allow the giant door silently opening wide. Inside was simple, a circular dark room with a stairway curling down. The end was too dark to be seen.

"Careful," Sora murmured as Daisuke and Ken moved closer to peer inside. "The dangers might be in there."

Frankie had this calm expression on his face and Taichi knew the answer. "Sora, I feel no danger. I feel nothing . . ."

Daisuke took a glance toward the stairway and spoke, "Even so, we should check. Ken?"

A soft orange shimmer and a black dazzle came over the Brother and Friend, and Taichi saw that they were in their armor clothes. Blades of orange and night blue and blood-red claws flashed in the dim lights and Ember and Blood headed for the stairway.

"Wait a second," Taichi demanded, walking to them. "What are you doing?"

Blood's twilight eyes regarded at him. "Scouting. Don't worry, we are checking for any possible hint of an ambush." He then vanished inside the darkness where Ember was already gone. Taichi crouched by the entrance, trying to peer in the darkness. 

"It's amazing," he murmured, rubbing his chin. "It's like they aren't themselves."

He heard the rustling of Miyako as she knelt by him, her soft red garments swaying in her motions. He liked her clothes; it suited her better than the former uniform. She looked like the real Miyako. She glanced down to the stairs and spoke to answer his words, "I think our Powers enhance our survival abilities."

He just nodded; he understood because it worked in the similar way with the Old Kids. If the Armor Powers helped the New Kids improve their fighting and survival abilities, they would be valuable fighters. The Nature Powers gave the Old Kids abilities to control Nature and be more sensitive with it. The abilities helped enhanced the Old Kids' understanding of life and death within nature.

The Digidestined patiently waited for Blood and Ember to return - the Heart-Names seemed to suit perfectly while they were in their Armor clothes - using the minutes to again rest. Better to be prepared, no matter what, because the Digiworld did work in funny ways. A minute later, Ember's head popped out from the darkness. 

"It's clear. It's all but stairs."

Taichi nodded, standing up. "Okay, got it." He beckoned the group. "Now, go quietly." One by one, the kids and Digimon followed Ember downstairs. Taichi was glad that the Digidestined had extraordinary teamwork; they knew who were stronger and capable to face danger ahead and keep the weaker in the middle. Taichi stayed behind, waiting as the last kid, Jyou, headed downstairs. He glanced at the door, hoping that it won't close and lock the kids inside. He turned to walk down. The minute he left the first step, he felt the closing.

Jyou popped out, eyes wide. "The door!"

Taichi needed no warning. He rushed ahead, hoping that his strength would be enough to stop the door from closing. But it was folly. It shut in his face, leaving him in total darkness.

***

The Vampire paused just inside the chamber. His eyes watched his Mother carefully as she paid no attention to her surrounding, the small black-haired girl Digimon floating by the single window. Her hidden gaze was looking outside, noticing something that he couldn't see. He was surprised to see a change in Daematermon. Before, she would stand tall and bear a certainty in her stance that she seemed larger than life, holding such an authority that he respected. Now, a great sadness had come over her. Her body was coiled into a ball, a tiny fist pressured upon her covered mouth. Then he realized it. She was not in her darkness. The darkness she so favored to take comfort within was not there. She was there in plain sight.

Vampdevimon suddenly didn't like it. What happened to her while he was gone? But he decided not to bring it up to her. Daematermon didn't like being reminded. In his human form, he quietly stepped forward to stand behind her, watching the soft black hair billowing around her body. He patiently waited until she regarded his presence.

She kept her eyes outside, but then spoke, "They are coming."

Vampdevimon tilted his head in curiosity. "Who?"

Daematermon's head turned to him. "The Children. The Crest. Look outside, son." She moved beside, allowing Vampdevimon to glance out. He didn't like the sight of the grey beach, the two lighthouses and the icy-black waters. The sight was too bland, too negative. Not his colors. He saw several dots on the beach and, looking harder, saw that they were the Digidestined. He was pleased to see them out of their memories; he preferred them sane and aware than have Daematermon's plan working out to keep them separated. He looked forward to another battle; the last battle was delicious to his soul. He thirsted for it.

  


He watched closer and noticed that four of the children were staring upward, toward the citadel. It surprised him. The citadel was supposed to hidden to any eyes except for his and his sister's. For some reason, it gave him the creeps, seeing that those kids won't be that easy to fool.

Vampdevimon turned around and leaned against the wall beside the window, his eyes on his mother. "So they are strong enough to break through their memories. Look like your plan to keep them apart failed."

The girl's voice was amazingly calm. "I don't insist to have my plan working. I want to see how strong they are."

"How strong are they, Mother?"

"Very strong . . . but not enough to defeat me." He could hear a hint of disapproval in her voice. She made a childlike shrug. "Still, they've proven their strength. They remind me of the Fallen Children."

The red-clad Digimon frowned in puzzlement. "Fallen Children? But aren't they just - "

"Legends?" The hidden eyes were on him now, sharp and patient.

"Well, yeah."

She fixed her gaze on him for a minute, then to the outside. He felt like she was studying the children under glass. "Yes, they are legends, very ancient and vague. But the Fallen Children are still alive, after all."

"Alive?" Vampdevimon shook his head in incredulity. "It just can't be. They cannot live that long. It happened thousands of years ago. Humans can't live that long . . ." His eyes widened as he grasped information he otherwise didn't notice. "Unless . . ."

Daematermon nodded. "They are Unmons. That's how they live that long. But remember, they are alive and yet they are not."

He was puzzled. Everybody knew that Unmons were nothing but pieces of data left over from Digimon and shaped like Humans. The name Unmon was the reason the Digimon called them that because they were Digimon and not Digimon. Unmons were so secretive that no one except probably them knew their origins. They were known for the mysterious forces working within the Digiworld and held practically everything sacred. No one had seen an Unmon before or even once in their lifetimes. The only Unmon who was often seen was Gennai Unmon, who decided to allow himself to be known as the Mentor of the Digidestined. But one thing appeared out of place. Humans cannot turn into Unmons or even Digimon. The Fallen Children cannot be Unmons at all! It was ridiculous . . .

"How could it be?" Vampdevimon muttered in bewilderment. He knew the legends, but not that detailed.

A darkness came over her and it wasn't the soft darkness she used, but the darkness that showed her other side, the devilish, vicious Daematermon. "There were five Fallen Children, seeking to destroy me. The Avenger is the only survivor of the First Battle and he still remembers. The Maiden is long dead . . . " He heard the great sadness creeping in her voice."And the other Fallen Children, the Hunter, the Matron, and the Dreamer . . . They are alive, but without memories of their pasts." A slight smile appeared on her lips. "In order to defeat me, the Avenger needs memories and the Fallen Crest to awaken the sword. And I know it's impossible to do that . . ."

Vampdevimon kept silent, inwardly frowning. That was new, hearing that from her. Daematermon rarely talked and when she did, it was only what she needed to explain the duty to him. Now the Final Evil was speaking idly about the First Battle. She was the First Evil, alright, but she never mentioned about the life she had before she became Daematermon. Daematermon was a Mega. There must be a life before she turned Mega . . .

"Mother . . . who are you, really? What happened to you that turned you to Mega?"

The blind gaze was fixed on him intently. Her voice held no tension or warning. "You begin to doubt me?"

He gazed back for a minute, and then lowered his head toward his crossed arms. A grin played on his face as he uttered a human saying, "Curiosity killed the cat."

Daematermon answered with a disapproving pout. "You don't know my past, son. You don't know my suffering." The black mane flowed as she sharply turned to watch the kids again. Her voice was flat. "Why are you here, then?"

Vampdevimon scolded himself for saying such a thing. Even though he was a Mega, his powers were nothing but powers of an In-Training compared with her. He also knew her method of discipline, no matter how painful. He softly sighed and responded, "I believe I can find the Shields. I've figured out the clues and locations."

"Indeed? Do you know that if you destroy one of the Outer Shields, the Inner Shields will become harder to find? And even if the four shields are gone, the other four will be completely invisible." She shook her head. "It's a risk, Vampdevimon."

He didn't care. He didn't have a desire to harm the Digiworld or even destroy it. He was bored. Searching for the Shields will keep him busy, and plus, he will have the chances to visit lands to gather precious memories. If he was going to die soon, he will make sure that he sure will have memories to keep him company in that oblivion. Memories were more important than harming the world. He simply shrugged. "I just know how to find them. The world will die even if just one of them is broken."

"Are you willing to take the risk? I'm not seeking to destroy the world."

  


Vampdevimon made a show to scratch at his claws; he wasn't nervous, but the sharp gaze on him was just biting at him. "Everything eventually dies, Mother. I'm just helping speeding the process." He looked up at his Mother's gaze. There was no disappointment or gladness in the pretty face. Nothing but mild patience. He lightly frowned, strengthening upright. "Mother, don't tell me you don't want to destroy the world."

Daematermon shook her head and again watched outside. "My only desire is to find the Crest of Heart."

The Vampire sighed with light exasperation and leaned on the windowsill, looking down to the children as they enter the Black Lighthouse. She never mentioned any reason why she desired it, why she must have it. At first, he respected her desire, believing that it was just a desire, but she made it sounded like the Crest was the _only _thing that had any meaning to her. He decided to ask her this time to find out the reason. "You never told me why you want that Crest. Why is it so important to you that it must be destroyed?"

"So I will be free . . ."

Vampdevimon was startled, looking back to her, but her face was easily smooth, held no expression. Her voice held nothing, as well, and he grew curious of the reason. Freedom? He frowned, but drew no more words from her. "I will take my leave," he slightly bowed as he stepped out from the chamber. 

Walking in the seemingly endless hallway, he felt his strong curiosity growing and gnawing at him. Who was his mother, really? The Legends about the First Battle were all but lost, and bits of the stories were known among the Higher Digimon, the Guardians, and probably the Unmons, from what he heard about the Fallen Children becoming Unmons. He didn't really know how Daematermon became to be. He wondered what really happened in that battle. He didn't know how it started or finished, either. Daematermon never mentioned one word about the battle, not one word, and that annoyed him. All he knew was that the Watcher had the same looks as her child. Her Digidestined child. He grunted, shaking his head. A Digimon Guardian was the First Evil? What irony.

But the stories Daematermon told him recently didn't help much. He felt an urge to go out and seek Unmons or anybody that might know more about the First Battle, in order to understand his mother better.

Faces appeared in his mind, the faces of the Digidestined. Well, if Mother wants the Crest of Heart so badly, he would be more than happy to go to the Watcher and snatch the Crest of Heart from her pretty neck. End her life and offer his mother happiness. 

Still, there were questions . . . 

His ears picked up soft footsteps and he knew that it was his sister, once again eavesdropping on his conversation. She sure loved her hobby. Stopping, he turned to mildly glance down to the snake in her human form scampering to his side. "I heard everything, brother . . ."

"Didn't you know that eavesdropping is bad for you?"

She grinned, flashing her tiny fangs. "I'm supposed to be bad, remember?" Then a pout appeared on her face. "What's the matter with Mother?"

"She is remembering her past." He glanced up toward the chamber, lost in the darkness beyond, then back to Verzyemon. "What will you do?"

"The children are coming. Mother and I will welcome them."

"What else?"

"What else?" Verzyemon repeated in puzzlement, and then shrugged. The shrug looked too alike to Daematermon's shrug. "I don't know . . ." Her golden eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Vampdevimon stared back, not wanting her to know his other plans. He stepped past, muttering, "Keep an eye on Mother, will you?"

Verzyemon kept at his side, again grinning. "Ah, so now you afraid of her?"

Vampdevimon abruptly stopped, not in stiff anger, but in mild interest, gazing down to her. "You are an idiot if you aren't afraid of her." Ignoring the fierce scowl on the childlike face, he continued, "She knows more than she tells us."

Verzyemon pressed a fist under her chin, appearing wistful. "Is it really necessary for her to tell us everything?"

Vampdevimon suddenly didn't like her. For one thing, she was made, not born from a Digiegg. She was too creepy to be normal. He forced a stony smile at her. "Will you excuse me? I have someone to attend to." 

As he moved on, Verzyemon continued, quiet and carefully, "Be gentle, big brother. Mother will not be happy with you if you harm the Crest."

And she can read minds! Well, heck with it. "It's not just the Crest I seek. It's the Watcher. I have questions that needed to be answered." He didn't look back for a response as he vanished in the dark.

***

She thought that when Myalomyotismon cast his darkness to spread all over the Digiworld and Earth, the darkness was the darkest she'd ever seen, so dark, casting shadows on the landscapes and yet giving out some sort of light that she can see by, seeing dark light for the first time. It was not like the darkness of the Dark Ocean, which was much like the one by the grey beach back there. Myalomyotismon's darkness gave out a glare of pure evilness, the evil that froze her heart and whispered of nightmares. The darkness from the Dark Ocean was negative, radiating great despair and doubt, gnawing at her heart with agony. 

This darkness was none of those.

  


Miyako felt softness and peace from the darkness, the darkness she would be content to sleep in. That spooked her. Was that supposed to be? As the group strode through the tunnel - it was clearly a tunnel, from the light reflected by Kimika's Light Power in the form of a glowing ball, natural and rugged - Miyako had the feeling that they were heading for the cliff and this building that no one except four of the Digidestined had seen. The stairway was leading downstairs for a brief time, and then straightened up into a level ground that lasted for even longer. She hinted the ground going slightly upward. It was no doubt; they were going to the cliff.

Miyako exhaled, hoping that whoever or whatever was waiting in the castle were just the Old Digimon, not some evil like Vampdevimon or the Final Evil. She hoped.

The tunnel ended up into another stairway, curling tightly upward. It was narrow, just enough for everybody to walk one by one. Miyako felt the wall as she followed Frankie in the line. The walls were smooth, almost like marble or jet. She wondered who made it. The stairway seemed to last forever, and just when she thought her feet would bruise, Daisuke at the very lead voiced that they stopped at a door. She heard Taichi's approval to move on and then perceived the door opening. The darkness there was dim, light from Kimika no longer needed. The dimness showed that they were in a gigantic empty room that its ceiling was unseen from above. Miyako suddenly felt alone in all the space.

She noticed that Frankie had this puzzlement and an unpleasant frown on his face the minute he stepped into the room. He was like that until he stopped Michael who moved closer to a wall with an opening that she assumed as a hall from the darker spot. "Wait . . . hold on a minute . . ." He tilted his head as if he was sensing something.

His brother turned to him. "Do you feel danger?"

The Keeper's frown deepened. "I sense great peril in here. I'm not sure what kind." His hazel eyes glared around the room. "Someone is here, very dangerous, but it doesn't want to hurt any of us. Its anger is directed to one of us . . ."

"Can you tell where the danger comes from?" Yamato demanded. Miyako noticed that while Taichi took his time thinking carefully through situations like this, Yamato tended to take over the leader role. Not really surprising, for Taichi can get frustrated easily and needed time away from his natural role.

Frankie grunted with such a frustration that Miyako believed it came from the difficulty to sense danger. "Where? It's everywhere. It's like the castle itself is dangerous."

The Master hummed to himself and turned to Mimi and Cleo, raising his eyebrows in question.

Mimi gently shrugged. "The Digimon are here, yes, but I can't tell where exactly. They are blurred, fuzzy."

Cleo nodded in agreement. "Same here. Their presences are too distant, changed."

"Changed? What do you mean, changed?" Yamato questioned.

"I don't know. Changed."

The group shifted in doubt, glancing around the strange, peaceful darkness. Miyako kept her eyes on the darker spot, the hallway, hoping that it was where it led to the missing Digimon. There was the only way to find out.

"Our method is simple: find your Digimon and find a way out," she heard herself speaking. "We won't fight, but we will have to if there is no other way. Hopefully, it's not necessary in our case. We have to move fast, in and out, and hopefully, we will find your Digimon soon."

She felt her cheeks heating under the gazes of her friends. She was very astonished at her words and wondered where they came from. But when the older kids nodded and smiled in agreement, she relaxed a bit. She didn't miss the beaming grin on Taichi and that reddened her face further.

They headed for the hallway. It was very empty as the room, and it appeared to stretch in distance, both ends soon lost in the darkness out of their reach. The darkness made her feel uneasy. It seemed alive, coiling and twisting. She tried to ignore it and focused at the ahead, where now Willis and Ken explored in the darkness. Ken's black clothing was perfect for him to vanish in the darkness, and Willis's orange garments made him an obvious target, yet he seemed perfect for a scout. They were checking the doors, leading into empty and surely useless rooms. She watched Willis carefully as he opened yet another door. She then heard a soft sound, like gasping, and Ken was suddenly there, out of the darkness. Paleness whitened his already pale skin and a strange, incredulous expression on his face.

"Ken?" Miyako whispered, stepping forward.

Ken glanced to the opened door, where Willis had disappeared inside. "I think . . . we found them."

The Kids rushed to the door and peered in another enormous room. The sight struck Miyako speechless. She knew that they did find the Old Digimon, but . . . but . . . Why were they in these . . . bodies?! The Digimon were truly there, but their Digital forms seemed to be changed into humanlike bodies. Their clothing was easily marked to match the coloring of their Digital forms, but . . . They were human! Truly human! Except for Ruigumon, who was still having her Digital form, which was odd. The Digimon-turned-humans were in chains, chains that looked like easy to break through, and yet the Digimon looked too exhausted to move, their eyes closed. The Kids were speechless, but Mimi was the first one to recover.

"Palmon!" Mimi rushed to her Digimon's side. She tried to break the chains, but couldn't. She then shook Palmon, a frightened visage on her face. "Palmon!"

  


The green-clad girl opened her emerald eyes; Miyako knew it was Palmon's eyes. Palmon appeared surprised to see her partner present, then weakly sat up. "Mimi?"

Mimi grinned in relief, and then lost it. "What happened to you?"

Palmon placed her hands on Mimi's shoulders, and there was a cold certainty in her eyes that provoked Miyako's tension further. Her voice was quiet and shaking. "Mimi . . . get us out of here."

The Kids rushed ahead to break the chains. Frankie froze apart the manacles with his Ice Power while Taichi simply melted the other manacles with a touch. Cleo and Hikari also helped, Cleo using telekinesis to bend the chains apart and Hikari aging the locks into rusts that she then broke. The human-Digimon were shaken, begging to leave and ignoring the soothing words from their partners. It was clear to Miyako that this place terrified them. They were not easily spooked, not from what they had experienced all their lives.

Ruigumon held terror for everybody, her orange eyes pale with horror. "Please, we have to get out of here! Before Daematermon finds us!"

Cleo tried to calm her Butterfly Digimon down. "Daematermon? Who is she?"

The Butterfly seemed to refuse to answer, instead pleaded the Kids to take the Digimon out of the awful place. "Please! Go now!"

"Oh, no, you will not . . ."

A shadow appeared at the door and it was a humanlike Digimon, leaning on the doorway, shaking his head. His voice was clearly Vampdevimon's and the clothing was almost matched to his Digital Form. The golden eyes were the real thing; she will not forget it, the angelic eyes in a demon. He was a Digimon with Human DNA, no mistake about it. Vampdevimon drawled calmly, "My Mother will be very displeased with me if I let you leave. Such terrible manners."

The red stars sparkled over her body as she opened her deadly fans. The Armor Children also summoned their weapons, taking positions in front of the Old Kids, their weapons flashing in a warning. Vampdevimon paused, glancing at the weapons in interest. "So . . . you really have found your powers already." The grin revealed long fangs. "You really think you can defeat me?"

Jewel felt a large hand resting on her shoulder and heard Taichi voicing, "Everybody, don't fight."

She gawked at him in disbelief. "What?! Sure, you don't mean - " But the sharp, calm eyes silenced her. He then shook his head. She didn't stop a scowl from smearing across her face, but she had the feeling he knew what to do. She closed her fans and jerked her head toward the waiting Armor Children. The Armor Children lowered their weapons and stepped back. But then she captured the gaze of Glass, who nodded. He stepped beside Taichi in order to be his guard. She could feel the disapproval from Taichi, but otherwise said nothing.

Taichi eyed the strange humanlike Digimon that was Vampdevimon. He ignored the fact that Vampdevimon had the ability to change into a human and focused on the danger present. He knew what he was going to do was not always wise, but he didn't want his friends to get in danger, especially their Digimon who were also in human bodies and too weak to fight back. He boldly met the golden gaze. "I'm not going to fight you. None of us will. I know you are powerful and we will not defeat you or even fight you at this moment. It's foolish for us to battle you when we know we will fail."

Vampdevimon kept a calm gaze at him. "You speak wisely, Master."

A faint smile came on the Master's face. "It's quite a surprise to see you again, Demidevimon."

The Vampire reacted nothing to his previous name. But he did cast a simple smirk, as if it was ironic that he once served Myotismon, one of the most terrifying Digimon ever reigned the Digiworld, and now that he was dead, his seemingly worthless minion had raised to power. Evil begets Evil.

The Master's face then hardened. "What do you want with us?"

"To answer your question, I have questions of my own to ask one of you." A frown appeared. "And you are in my way."

He didn't plan to fight any Digidestined, simply using his attacks to state a warning to them. From his hand, a dark flame, the red-tinted black light casting shadows upon the walls. A memory appeared, reminding him of that Master and his courage to overcome his former master. A twinge of revenge dawned, and he simply used it to flare his power. The dark flame then pounced for Taichi. Taichi was unmoved, but his guard, the blasted Patron responded. His body flared with an aura of ice-blue and twilight purple, and he raised a hand.

"Stop!" Michael uttered, concentration on his masked face. Taichi felt something funny happening. The space between him and Vampdevimon become thicker, much like gelatin, the air becoming solider as well. The Dark Fire seemed to freeze in midair, like it was frozen in Time. Then he felt the space _aging_, somewhat. The air became stale, old, and the flame sizzled out in mere seconds. He stared at the violet paladin in astonishment.

"A Reality Child! Why . . . there are other powers as well . . ." Vampdevimon shook his head from the astonishment he also had for Michael, and then scowled. "Step aside. I don't want to fight you all." With that, his body burst into a leap into the group. It went too fast. Midst of the confusion, the red blur seemed to catch on someone, who screamed in surprise. Then Taichi felt a push on his chest. It wildly shoved him against the wall and kept him there. He felt his chest crushing from the force and he helpless struggled. Looking around, he saw the kids and Digimon were in the same situation, pinned on the walls. Taichi glared over to Vampdevimon and his heart hammered to see Cleo straining in Vampdevimon's arms. Her attempts were too weak and Vampdevimon held her up as if she was nothing but a feather.

  


Cleo felt strange warmth and awful, awful _wrongness _from his arms. She felt sickly, the _wrongness _affecting her limbs into exhausted weakness. Nevertheless, she kept on struggling, her ears picking up the words from Vampdevimon as he calmly strode to the doorway. "Face it; you are not fit to fight me." Then she felt his eyes on her. "Watcher, stop struggling. I have questions to ask."

She fought back tears and dared to peer up to his face. So human and so snakelike. "What do you want with me?"

Somehow, Vampdevimon did show gentleness and reassurance. He even held her like a child, cradling her carefully. "Please do not be so frightened."

Her fists pounded on his chest, seeing that they didn't harm him. "You monster! You destroyed innocent Digimon and stole our Digimon! How could you tell me not to be frightened?!"

"Because the one you should be frightened of is my Mother."

Memories came in her mind, not hers, and yet so familiar, a ghostly face with amber eyes and a curious grin, peering out from under a black wide-brimmed hat. She hesitantly looked up to Vampdevimon's face and saw that the golden eyes were very familiar, almost the same to the color of the amber eyes, but they weren't. There was no calmness, no protection in the golden eyes. But why did she remember this strange memory that wasn't hers? With her mind's eye, she stared at the amber eyes and then realized that they looked much like . . . Prophetmon's eyes. Not the color, but the protection, certainly. 

Prophetmon . . .

_'Call me whenever you need help.'_

And she needed his help . . .

_'Prophetmon!'_

***

The iridescent mind-voice burst with such a force of fear and insistence that it almost yanked Prophetmon out from his momentary worry. Blinking, Prophetmon turned his azure eyes toward the direction from where he received the mental cry. At first, he was confused, not recognizing the sudden cry of his name in his mind, but then he saw the swelling colors from the voice. Heart suddenly hammering, he focused on the exact location and his heart then tightened as it came from far, far south.

"Cleo!" his voice boomed in disbelief. "Not now!"

As his dark cloak finally embraced around him, preparing for transportation, he then called for the warrior. 

_Protect the Watcher from the Daemon Mother!_

***

The warrior was already at the grey-sanded beach, not remembering how he got here from the seemingly unreachable cliffs. He's never seen the place before and assumed that it must be sheltered from the rest of the world. He could feel the shelter shimmering around the area, almost could see the greyness that twinkled now and then. It was safe, but unfortunately, darkness was present. He can feel it, feel it as part of his soul. Although, he wasn't here to experience the sight of the strange beach.

He was supposed to search for the children and he was disappointed to find nothing. Oddly, he felt a mental tug pulling on him, much like when he sensed the Destiny Stones, supposedly to lead to the children. He didn't know which kid who did the tug, but at least, he had a lead to find them. But he found nothing but this place. The tug told him that the children were here, or used to be here, and he stood by the Black Lighthouse, deeply disappointed in himself.

_Protect the Watcher from the Daemon Mother!_

He didn't jump at the suddenness, calmly receiving it, recognized the voice as Prophetmon. The fright and terror in the voice roused him, however. His golden eyes quickly gazed around the beach, seeing no danger or no person that might be the Watcher. Seeing nothing, he then glanced up to the dark-tinted building that hinted him as one of the Real World's Japanese temples. A citadel. It was the better word. She might be in there. He must find her now.

Spreading wide his shield wings, he took up in the air, darting for the citadel.

***

Cleo broke her gaze from the golden eyes and again struggled. "What does she want with me?"

Vampdevimon calmly circled his large hand around one of her wrists, pausing her struggles. "She wants your crest." His eyes glimpsed down to the lilac crest resting outside her chest. "Your Crest of Heart."

Her other hand closed around it, and she forced herself to stare back. "Why?"

"She doesn't tell me why, but I know she will come for you."

"Why me?"

  


The Vampire simply shrugged and let go of her wrist. He then fell silent, studying her face in such an eerie interest that shivered her. _Why is he looking at me like that . . .? _She should have used her Power to cast him away, but she couldn't. She was not a fighter. Her body was too frail to allow any added strength, and although that her mind had advanced to extraordinary strength to use telekinesis, she couldn't use it. Her mind shut down from terror. She half-heard her friends grunting in their struggles and yells toward her to use her Power, but the wrongness, the electric warmth from Vampdevimon baffled her. She couldn't think straight. It was the first time she found herself lost in the face of danger. She was too scared to do anything, only stare in hopelessness as Vampdevimon quietly continued.

His voice was so soft that she thought she was the only one to hear him, one of his long fingers tracing her chin. "I feel no reject . . . You are pretty, strong, despite your frail appearance." His face frowned. "I don't understand why she wants you, personally. She told me you are in her way to be free, so it makes me think . . ." There was a new gleam in his eyes. "I want her to be successful. I want her to be happy." 

She stiffened as the claw-finger traced down to her neck; for a moment, she thought he would cut her throat right there, but he didn't. Simply encircling a hand around her chest - she didn't notice that his hands were so large! - , pinning her arms to her sides, Vampdevimon then held her at arm length, again inquiring her. There was strange pity in his face. His voice was soft, "Dear Watcher, you are unfortunate to bear the Crest of Heart. You are unfortunate to bear the same looks as my Mother's Digidestined. You are unfortunate to die so young . . . Are you destined that way?" Then the gleam again appeared, and he raised his other hand, which was curled into a lethal claw. Cleo felt her throat closing with fright as the hand began to glow with the red-black light. "Forgive me, Watcher."                                        

_"Terra Destroyer!"_

A thunderous roar filled the very building, violently rumbling. In astonishment, the Vampire looked over his shoulder just in time see a massive sphere swelling with red energy coming for him. The sphere crashed into him and thrust him backward, forcing him to drop the girl. Vampdevimon smashed on the far side, narrowly missing some of the kids and Digimon on the wall. Cleo felt the heat sizzling on her skin as the sphere passed her, not noticing that she was free from the Vampire. In the brief instant, she was hoisted up from her fall. She felt the coldness of metal, the powerful strength in the arms, and dazedly, she looked up to see the face of her rescuer.

Black Wargreymon carefully shielded the girl with his black Dramon Destroyers and glared toward the recovering Vampdevimon. When Vampdevimon came to his feet, upset to see him alive, Black Wargreymon simply growled. "You want the Watcher? Go ahead and fight me first."

Vampdevimon also growled with objection as he held on the wall for balance. "I have no time for this. My plan may be foiled, but you don't know what is in store for you! By denying Mother the crest, you are enraging her. She will not be gentle with you, all of you." With a disdainful snort, Vampdevimon blinked out into midair, leaving everybody in bewilderment. The invisible force he held over the kids and Digimon was gone, releasing them from the binds. Some stared at the newcomer with caution and perplexity. He was alive? How? They hesitated to go to him, wanting to keep Cleo away from him, and at the same time, were confused to see the protection he had over her.

Agumon recovered first and ran to the black warrior. Black Wargreymon glanced down, showing no confusion of his new human body, but with recognition. Agumon murmured hesitantly, "Black Wargreymon?"

He saw the friendliness, softness in the golden eyes that he never seen before. Black Wargreymon's voice rumbled, "Friend Agumon, I'm asking you to trust me. We cannot delay our stay any longer. The Watcher is in utter danger here."

Agumon was surprised to hear the pleading in his voice, and then gazed to Cleo. The blonde was too shaken to respond to anything, staring out of nowhere. She was shaken by the words of Vampdevimon. Agumon nodded at Black Wargreymon. "I trust you, friend." Turning to his partner, he shouted, "Tai, we have to go! We are in danger here!"

"Right! Move, people, move!" Taichi ordered as the group regained their bearings and ran out the room. There was the only way out - the way to the beach. It may be dangerous to return to it, where there was no other way out, but it was better than staying in the dark building and waiting for whoever coming. Driven by fear and protection for one of their Digidestined, the group dashed down the hallway, following Black Wargreymon, who seemed to know where to go. 

"No! St-!" Frankie's warning cry was abruptly cut off by something. Willis and Elecmon, who were with him, whirled around and saw thin silver chains binding around the Keeper, silencing him, blocking him from breaking through. An instant later, chains shot for them, sharply wrapping around their bodies, binding tightly. The human-Digimon and Ruigumon recognized them and yelled at the rest to avoid them while they fought to dodge from the flying chains. It was useless. After a brief casting of the Powers and dodging, the entire group was chained down. Somehow, the chains had an ability to block their Powers, leaving them vulnerable.

Black Wargreymon was the only successful one, using his claws to slash through. The chains were too fast and they bound around his limbs. Black Wargreymon strained against them, holding Cleo close to his chest. It appeared that the chains were trying to tear his hold off Cleo. Black Wargreymon failed and his limbs were pulled back, Cleo falling down to the ground, jerking her from the daze. She blinked around the chained friends and gazed up to Black Wargreymon.

Black Wargreymon voiced, pleading, "Run! She is coming for you!"

  


_Who? Who is coming for me? _Her eyes picked up a movement within the dimness. A Digimon, she saw, was walking out from the darkness. The darkness was part of her, just like a cloak . . . like Prophetmon's cloak of darkness. A Digimon . . . or a human . . .? It was a girl, a simple-looking girl . . . But she knew that it was a Digimon as well, a humanlike Digimon. She looked six or seven years of age, donned in a black peasant dress and a bloodstained strip around her head, hiding her eyes. Her jet-black hair was like a mane, long and wavy, flowing down to her feet. She looked so familiar . . . but she wasn't like that before. She was bigger, taller, and angrier . . .

Sudden memories flooded in her mind and Cleo shook her head from them. What were they, the mysterious memories? They weren't hers, but she felt like she had known them for years. She remembered the First Battle. She remembered this child-Digimon when she was a monstrosity, wild and insane with power, casting down her energy to destroy everything in her path. The black stone that proved peril, not hope as the friends thought so. The friends who had died to stop her. Her brother . . . No, not her brother, someone's brother . . . She now remembered the name.

Daematermon.

The Daemon Mother.

The Final Evil.

_Her Digimon . . ._

Cleo gasped as the voice of Nikhai spoke out from her own mouth as if she _was_ Nikhai herself. "No, not Wissy! Not my monster!"

_But she is Daematermon . . ._

Cleo unconsciously winced as the black-clad girl turned her head toward her, noticing her with blind eyes. She watched her for a moment, then voiced out, "Verzyemon." As the snake-woman appeared beside her, grinning with dark delight, the girl asked, "Who is she?"

The grin turned into a smirk, and Verzyemon gestured her hands. The chains pulled the group away from Cleo, leaving her alone and vulnerable in the center of the hallway. Then she answered, "Sad Eyes is the bearer of the crest."

Daematermon faintly smiled, almost in relief, and then gently beckoned toward Cleo. "Littler Watcher."

Cleo ignored the motherly calmness in the voice and stood up. She summoned her Power for protection and an invisible dome appeared around her, seen only by the outline of the oily rainbow light, like rainbows reflected by sunlight upon oil. Feeling only a bit safer under her dome, Cleo stepped back, casting a weak glare toward Daematermon. "Stay back, please."

Daematermon shook her head. "Watcher, you don't need to be frightened of me. Vampdevimon made a mistake in trying to harm you. He forgets that it's not just you that I want."                                                                                                   

Again, Nikhai voiced through her mouth, this time directing to Cleo, "Butterfly, don't listen to her! She's my monster! Hide for her!"

Daematermon froze at the voice, total shock radiating from her. "You . . . you are using her voice . . ." Her body then shook with hesitance. " . . . Lucy?"

"Get away!" Nikhai snapped in fearful anger. "You hurt me! You killed your friends! Go away!"

Daematermon appeared heavily hurt at the words. "Lucy . . . I never thought that I would ever hear your voice again . . ." Her voice grew remorseful, ashamed, "Lucy, forgive me . . . I cannot change what I did . . ."

"Go away . . ." The cries of Nikhai faded into Cleo's warning words, "Leave Nikhai alone!"

Daematermon again paused in puzzlement. "Nikhai?"

Cleo clenched her fists, glaring. "What do you want with me and Nikhai?"

A change came over Daematermon, from the motherly child into the cold, calculating Digimon. A twinkle flashed from the dark stone set on her forehead, somehow shone with dark energy. A dark aura, foul and filthy, began to encircle her, her hair and dress swaying as if by winds. She floated up in the air, her face stoned, darkened. Even Verzyemon stepped inched from her, startled at the sudden change. Her voice was flat, "Actually, what I want from you is the crest you wear, Watcher of No Heart."

Startled at the change of her title, Cleo grasped her hands around her crest tightly. "I won't let you have my crest."

"It is never yours. It belongs to my child." When Cleo boldly glared back, Daematermon almost hissed, "Do not make me force you."

Cleo abruptly screamed at the silver-red waves of agony bursting within her mind. The protective dome vanished from around her as she clenched at her head, dropping to her knees, unable to bear the thick, heavy pain. She felt it from Daematermon, like waves of raging waters surging against her. The presence of Nikhai was gone from her mind, lost somewhere in the increasing stupor, her ears buzzing with her screams. Lastly, the pain abruptly stopped and left Cleo semi-conscious, her arms now limping at her sides. Faintly, a light glowed around her, an ungodly aura of greyness stroking the outline. Her head rose up and her jade eyes were blank, lifeless.

Daematermon smiled under the scarf. "Come here, Watcher of No Heart."

  


Cleo stiffly got up to her feet, slightly swaying with lifeless balance. One by one, she dragged her feet toward Daematermon, unaware. The group was furious, seeing that a Digidestined was at the mercy of the Final Evil. Amidst of their increasing determined struggles in the chains, colorful lights appeared around them, first, a violet aura glowed, then more colors shimmered as the Digidestined and Digimon summoned their auras. Even Black Wargreymon, a nondestined Digimon, was glowing with an insane golden light. It seemed that the auras were called by their fierce persistence to protect the frail Watcher. Verzyemon was uneasy as she regarded the angry swirls and rays of the auras. She winced at the pain cast by the lights, feeling her body bit by needles. She had a feeling that she was being deleted, pixel by pixel. She crawled backward. "Mother . . ."

The girl-Digimon paid no attention to them except to Cleo. As she stood before the Final Evil, Daematermon whispered, "Give me the crest."

Cleo appeared to resist the automatic response, her hand twitching. She then failed, her hand jerkily reaching for the crest and closing around it. Daematermon widely grinned as the blonde donned it off. The lilac crest seemed to twinkle within the glass screen of the brass tag. Daematermon frowned, gazing closer to the crest. 

_Wait . . . there is something wrong with the crest . . . _

_What? It is broken! It isn't complete! _

_Where is the other half?_

The lilac crest then twinkled, this time blazed with the colors of a rainbow. The glares blinded her, reminding her so much of the damned sword with all the glowing colors! Daematermon cried, shielding her face with an arm. The room was aglow as the auras removed the chains away from the group's limbs, somewhat having a power to free them. Or perhaps, the determination from the group was powerful enough to cast their wish. The blinding lights also deleted Verzyemon, which, being a powerful Mega, was unable to resist the light of goodness. The colorful light from the Crest of Heart also banished the ungodly aura from Cleo. She quietly gasped, blinked, and then plummeted into inertia.

Ruigumon moved in time, catching her partner in her arms and grasping on the crest out of the Daemon Mother's sight. Black Wargreymon was quick at her side, shielding both the Butterfly and the Watcher in front of Daematermon. The group returned to the ground, standing in defensive stances, glaring at Daematermon. Daematermon quietly looked around, carefully remarking each Digimon, each Digidestined, seeing the powerful emotions swelling in their faces. She almost recognized it.

"Devotion . . ." she whispered in mild puzzlement. "You would protect the Watcher of No Heart with your lives? You must be foolish . . . or truly loyal . . ." She had seen it. In the children who once faced her. Her lost friends.

_"Everybody, get out of here!"_

The Daemon Mother stiffened at the voice . . . She didn't make a move as she watched three new Digimon appearing in the hallway. The Fate Digimon . . . and . . . Prophetmon? She speechlessly stared at him; even when the Yin-yang attack blinded her, she didn't shield her eyes again. She faintly heard the confusion and voices as the children and Digimon vanished through a tear in the air - a tear that she remembered from the past. As the voices faded, Prophetmon was the last to leave. Standing by the tear, he gazed back at her. She could see the doubt and the struggle in his azure eyes . . .

A new emotion was in her chest, filling her with the strange warmth. Joy . . . mixed with shame. Joy, for she knew who he was. Shame, for he saw what she was.

"You are still alive . . ." Daematermon whispered shakily, stepping closer. "After all the years . . ."

The doubt abruptly shifted into a hot visage of loathing. Prophetmon glowered and gestured toward her. It wasn't an attempt to attack her or even test her power. It was fury that he held within his chest, finally released after all the years bottling it in.

_"Destiny's Light!"_

A circle, twisted around its middle, glowing with the rainbow's colors, appeared in the air, again reminding her of the sword. Daematermon quickly gestured to halt the attack in midair. She never had seen it before, one of the rare attacks. Of course . . . only Native Digimon had rare attacks that weren't simplified and controlled like those Artificial Digimon's. The twisted circle flickered into darkness and was gone. Once again, the room was dark, and Daematermon found herself alone and lost. Staring at the spot where she saw Prophetmon, she clenched her fists and held them close to her chest. Once again, she felt wetness straining her face, which was surprising, since she had no eyes. Nevertheless, she was weeping. 

_'Prophetmon . . . my son.'_

To be continued!


	12. Time to Rest

A/N: 

Dai-chan walks in with her Magic Pencil, stands in front of the screen, cheerfully waves, though there is a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She begins to write.

**_Dizklamer!!!_**

**_Febbie not own Digimon, coolest Monsters ever! Zhe not own Digidestined. Zhe not own Digiworld. Too bad, so sad, so there, so what? But me do! Queen Dai-sama own Izz-man!_**

**_Resistance is futile. You will be assimila-_**

A Japanese fan flies in and jabs her in the face. Dai yelps and staggers out of the screen and there is a satisfying *thud*. Debbie stomps in, fuming. She gives her unconscious sister a hot glare and picks up the Magic Pencil. With that, she erases the infamous words of Star Trek and quickly dives for cover as the fourth wall screeches in threat. After the fourth wall finishes its wail, Debbie brushes her hands, and then stops. An evil sneer appears on her face. She erases the redhead's name and writes in 'Sora'. 

A strangling gasp, then colorful curses erupt as Dai chases a still grinning Debbie out the screen, swinging the Japanese Fan. As yells fade in the distance, Demy flies in with a sign on his neck. There is a weary expression on his cute face. The sign says:

**Will Work for Sanity.**

MUHA! Beware.

Children of the Digital

Chapter Twelve: When it's time to rest . . .

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

I have the strangest sensation that I'm floating in a darkness that is alive, swelling and coiling like a slimy slug. I feel so filthy, wanting to scrub the disgusted filthiness, wanting to cleanse the awful foulness from my skin. I hear only one voice: the voice of Daematermon, and even so, the childlike voice is masked with foulness and such anger, sadness, and hatred that run creeps up my spine. I fight the uncontrollable response that would remove my crest from around my neck to the tiny, white hands.

Then . . . there is a pale purple flash, soft and almost faint, and yet radiant and fierce, sparkling in the darkness, banishing the foulness from around me. A sensation of a hand, a small hand coming out from within the darkness, reaching up to me, grabbing on my own hand, and with a surprising strength, perhaps born of fright, the hand yanks me down, down, plummeting into the darkness. The foul darkness vanishes, replaced by peaceful darkness, encouraging me to fall asleep. I don't want to; not knowing what nightmares will haunt my dreams.

I don't regard it at all, feeling nothing but the sensation of free fall. I feel like I'm falling, but at the same time, I am not moving at all, my mind playing tricks. Then, abruptly, I tumble onto a floor. It doesn't hurt me; the fall feels like I am just floating only a couple of feet away from the ground. I lay still, befuddled, not perceiving the scratches on my shins, cheeks, and arms where they strike upon the cracked and grainy stones. Then I know, somehow know that I am back in the dream. 

I open my eyes, sitting up. Yes, I am back in the dream, but there is something wrong with it. Somewhat, I have the odd impression that I'm trapped, couldn't get out. I couldn't bring myself to wake up; it's like a sluggish effort, too weak, too lazy to work. Peering behind myself, I recoil to see the darkness swirling a couple of feet away. I hurry up to my feet, stumbling away to gain more space in between. Taking a shuddering look at it, I then glance around. I wonder how I got to here, don't remember falling asleep, only recall the sliminess of the strange living darkness. I rub my arms, walking down the winding paths, again feeling the trapped sensation.

I need to find out what has happened. Cupping my hands around my mouth, I shout, "Nikhai? Nikhai!" I kneel down, brushing aside a stiff, dead bush, trying to see a glimpse of a black dress, a flash of blonde hair, or even a twinkle of bright blue eyes. "It's me, Butterfly."

A faint sniffle answers me. I raise my head, waiting. Another sniffle shows me the way. I arrive to a mess of bushes that seem to grow altogether, forming a huge dome of twisted branches, brown leaves, and loose roots. The sniffles come from inside. I walk around and notice a tiny opening that might lead me inside. I kneel and whisper, "Nikhai?"

Within the branches, I find the small girl. Wide bright blue eyes staring back, Nikhai is nestled deep in the bushes, her arms tight around her legs, her teeth biting on the knots of her rainbow-colored sash in fright. The very sight sinks my heart. "Nikhai, what's the matter?"

The girl manages to remove the knot from her mouth to wail, "Go away . . ." Her eyes dart around to the side. "My monster saw you and she will find me."

_'No, not Wissy! Not my monster!' _I bite on my lip from asking her who is her monster. I believe I know, but I couldn't dare to ask, not when poor Nikhai is frightened to death. The sight of her monster must have frightened her into hiding deep in the thorny bushes. "I'm sorry," I murmur, "But I promise you that I will protect you from your monster."

Another sniffle and Nikhai rubs her nose before eying me with a faint light of hope. "You - you will?"

I grin with confidence. "Of course!" Seeing that Nikhai is calmed down, even a bit, I crawl forward into the bushes. The opening is too small for me to crawl safely and I try to ignore more scratches I earned. Surprisingly, the hollowness inside is large enough for me to fit. Nikhai hesitates to move closer, watching me cautiously. I again grin, admiringly looking around the inside. "It's a good hideout."

Nikhai faintly smiles. "I hope so it's strong enough from my monster."

"I believe so, Nikhai," I reassure, moving into a comfortable seat.

The younger girl pauses, and then quietly crawls into my lap. I let her; I know that Nikhai is really scared and all she needed is a safe embrace and a few words of encouragement. Nikhai wraps her arms around my chest and locked on there; I let one of my hands brushing aside the blonde locks from the girl's face, the same locks I once had when I myself was seven. It is kinda eerie that I feel like I was holding a younger Cleo, the only difference is the color of our eyes.

Nikhai whispers lowly, "Butterfly, please don't tell your friends about me. I'm scared."

"Don't worry, Nikhai. You will be fine." I again bite on my lip; I kinda betrayed my promise, already told Yamato about the strange twin girl. But I trust him, trust his abilities to talk with the dead and hear their words. He is the only one who can talk with her beside me. No one else can talk nor see Nikhai. I could go ahead and reassure Nikhai and let her know that she can trust Yamato. I voice, "But one of my friends wants to help, too. He is Matt. He saw you and asked me about you."

Nikhai's eyes widen, showing the intensity of the electric blueness. "But you promised not to tell!"

"I didn't tell him. He saw you first. He wants to help."                                                                    

The girl is obviously hesitant, but then she inches closer, curious. "Who is he? I remembered seeing him, and he tried to talk to me."

I smile; at least, Nikhai had seen Yamato. It would go easier for her to trust him. "Why didn't you talk back?" Although, I know the answer.

"I was too scared."

"It's alright. He will talk with you when you want to talk."

Nikhai tilts her head in puzzlement. "How did he see me?"

I know that Nikhai knows that she is dead and is now a ghost. The fact that she is dead doesn't faze Nikhai at all. That makes me wonder if Nikhai is aware that she is dead after all. It is a bit creepy. "Matt is like me; he can see ghosts and like to talk with them." Not exactly, Yamato mentioned that he does enjoy the conversations, but most of the time, he feels odd and weird that he likes to talk with the dead more than with the living. He prefers to talk if he needs to, although. 

Nikhai appears to muse. "Ghost . . . that's his Heart-Name."

I'm surprised. I wonder how she knew about the Heart-names. Maybe she already knew that when she was alive and had a Heart-Name. All the Digidestined I met have one. I'm curious at how did she know about Yamato's Heart-Name. I nod to her words. She then smiles shyly at me. "And your Heart-Name is Butterfly."                                                                            

I smile; I don't know what my Heart-Name is, if I have one, and Butterfly seems to be the fitting one because I really love butterflies. After all, I have a Butterfly Digimon as my Guardian and my precious treasure is a butterfly pendant, which my Red still keeps around his neck. "Oh, I would like to have that as mine."

"But it is!" Nikhai emphasizes. "You look like a butterfly and so Butterfly is your Heart-Name."

"Thank you, and what is yours?"

Suddenly, the smile fades and Nikhai hurriedly looks away, as if shamed. I ask gently, "Nikhai, you can tell me." She violently shakes her head, which surprises me.  She does have one, but she seems scared and almost guilty to tell me. I don't want to pressure her. It would not be fair to her. "Ok, you don't have to tell me." My smile helps her calm down. I let her resting her head on my chest, letting her calm down and feel comfortable around me, letting her forget about her monster.

Monster . . . I can't . . . I have to find out. I want to know who her monster is so I can let my friends know. It might not be surprising to me, but I believe I know who her monster is. She called Daematermon her monster. Daematermon, the Final Evil. Daematermon has to be her monster; it is the only reason why Nikhai is so unnerved. I have to ask. No matter how frightened Nikhai is now. I can't be too soft.

I gently force Nikhai to look up to me. I ask carefully, "Listen to me. This is important and you have to tell me. Do you know who Daematermon is?"

Nikhai doesn't flinch at the name this time, though there is a flash of terror in her eyes. She then frowns, shaking her head. "It's not her real name. It's Wisimon. I call her Wissy."

"I never heard of a Wisimon." I should've known. Red had showed me each monster he had downloaded from the Digiworld and from Gennai. I don't recall a monster named Wisimon.

"She is my monster."

I eye her intently. There is no trick, no deceit in her face. She probably doesn't know how to lie. "Nikhai . . . You are a Digidestined?" It has to be. She used to have - and still has - a monster. A Digital Monster. And the only reason you have a Digimon is that you are a Digidestined . . .

Nikhai wrinkles her nose in perplexity. "I've heard of that funny word. What does that mean? Many monsters called me that. My brother and my friends, too. They had their monsters, but they were nice and friendly. They never hurt. My monster wanted to hurt me."

"Why?"

She bows her head, shivering. "I don't know . . ."

I want to stay and comfort her, but I can't. I have to leave. I was sleeping too long. In fact, I don't even remember when I did sleep. I have to wake up, despite the dry, sluggish effort. My friends are probably worrying about me. I have to leave Nikhai alone. She will be alright; she had been living in my mind ever since she can remember and was doing fine before I met her in the dreams. I brush aside the blonde locks. "Nikhai, will you be okay by yourself?"

The hurt look on her face again makes my heart sink. "I have to go. My friends will be very worried about me if I won't wake up." Her face softens down, almost into a guilty expression. She again bites on the sash's knots, anxious, but then silently nods. I grin, placing a butterfly kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry. I will be back soon. I promise."

She follows me as I crawl out and head for the darkness. The sight of the slimy darkness disgusts me, but it is the only door that I can get out, wake up through. Nikhai's voice stops me, though . . .

"Butterfly . . . I will be okay, but you can't leave."

I turn around and find her standing near the bushes hideout, still biting on the knots. The guilty expression is still there and it puzzles me. "What do you mean?" I ask. "The dream will end and I have to go."

"It's not a dream anymore."

"Nikhai, I don't understand."

Nikhai pointed a tiny finger toward the darkness. "You can't leave."

I wait, frowning, but she adds nothing to her words. The guilt on her face worries me. Is there something she knows that I don't notice yet? I look hard at the darkness, expecting it to be alive, swirling and coiling like a black snake among itself. But then I notice that it seems . . . solid. It doesn't coil, doesn't swirl, not even rippling. It is like black ice. Looking the entire length of the darkness, which seems to swallow all the boundaries of the garden except for the beautiful light behind me, it is solid. I force myself to walk up to it and place my hands on it. Sure enough, it is. Bitingly coldness stab through the palms, but as I fear, the darkness doesn't attempt to swallow me whole, but simply standing there, frozen.

The door is closed.

My heart hammer with fear. Am I trapped? "What happened? Did Daematermon do that to me?"

"No, I did," says the quiet voice beside me.

I stare down to Nikhai standing nearby, her bright eyes on me. "You did? Did what?"

"My power. It helped me bring you here so you won't get hurt by my monster."

"Power . . .?" Confusion takes over fear and I keep on staring back, perplexed. The little girl, the littlest Digidestined has a Power? How could it be?

Nikhai's face contorts into an anxious visage, even backing a step. "Are you mad at me?"

I let myself kneel, shaking my head. I need to keep my fear down and try to figure out what is really going on here. If I question Nikhai too harsh, she would get more frightened of me and would not appear to me anymore. I have to be careful and clear any confusion around us. "No, I'm not mad at you," I reassure her, but my eyes must have the sharp glint to it, for Nikhai doesn't move closer to me. "I don't understand what is happening here. Can you tell me more . . .?"

She wrings her hands, lowering her gaze. "I don't know . . . All I know is that I used my power to make you sleep. I made you stay."

I should've known. It's a possibility that every Digidestined has his/her own power. It should not surprise me that the Digidestined before us do have their Powers. I wonder what kind of power she has, but decide not to persuade her. Not when I demand to know what's going on here. "Why did you do that, Nikhai?"

"So Wissy won't find you. If you are awake, she will find you and will hurt you. But I brought you here and made you stay. She can't find you and she can't hurt me."

The sincerity in the words frights me. She sounds like that she is worried about me as much as she is about herself. But then, she does sound like Daematermon will definitely hurt me simply because I have Nikhai inside my mind and carry the Crest of Heart. I stare up to the solid darkness. "So I'm stuck here."

"No, you are not. You stay with me." Nikhai manages to give a reassuring smile.

I'm not comforted yet. The faces of my friends appear in my mind. "What about my friends? They will think I won't wake up and they will get worried."

The girl bows her head. "You are mad."

I sigh, but I touch her cheek to get her attention, smiling. "No, I'm not . . . I'm . . . I'm scared."

Nikhai quickly grasps on my hand, holding it close. "Don't be scared. I'm here."

"I know . . . But what about my friends? They didn't know I'm okay."

Nikhai bites on her lip, pondering, then realization dawns on her face. "I could tell Ghost for you!" I'm surprised, indeed, because she never shows such openness, trust for a Digidestined she only saw. Nikhai peers upward, her eyes soft, and then grins again, almost shyly. "You don't have to worry. Spark is watching over you all the time."

I remain silent, my heart melting at the thought of Koushiro guarding over me, watching to make sure I'm okay, just as what he always did ever since we met. At first, I thought it was because I was ill and Koushiro just wanted to make sure that I don't faint or lose my breath, but now I think he just enjoy being around me. My cheeks blush, looking upward, wishing to see his freckled, keen face that Nikhai is seeing. "He never leaves my side?"

Nikhai speaks coyly, "He's nice. His monster is here, and your monster, too. They are nice."

Oh, poor Ruigumon! She must be worried to death about me. I look to her. "Will you tell Matt that I'm okay? That I will wake up soon?" When she nods in agreement, I again keep quiet. The fact that I'm stuck here in this dying garden with only the foul darkness baring my way and the beautiful light that scares me really makes me feel dismayed. I am at a loss. I don't know what to do. I desire to get out of the dream and comfort my friends, but the idea of Daematermon suddenly attacking us the moment I wake holds me back. If it's the only way to keep my friends safe, I suppose I will have to stay asleep. But it doesn't matter this time. Why does Daematermon want my crest for? She is horrifying and heartless in spite of her childlike appearance. Who is she? She used to be Wissy, but now . . . she is so angry and sad and . . . lonely . . . 

"Why are you sad?" Nikhai whispers, almost startling me. 

I feel despair flooding in me. Does she already know about Daematermon? I have to ask. I have to! "Nikhai . . . why does your Wissy want to hurt me?"

Nikhai's worried face softens. "That's because she wants my crest."

"Your crest?"

"Your crest. The Crest of Heart. That's what Wissy called it."

Although that the crest is not physically here, I nevertheless touch my chest, imaging it. "My crest? You mean . . . my crest is your crest? The crest isn't mine after all?" Daematermon is right . . .

"It's yours and it's mine. We share it."

I'm bewildered. How could it be possible for two Digidestined to share a crest? Each Digidestined has a special crest that is supposed to represent their powerful trait and carry it for all the other Digidestined. Koushiro told me so. I don't know why I represent Heart. Koushiro mentioned that the word Heart could mean anything, from a center, a soul, a spirit, an emotion, a core of a being, or even a real heart. Just a heart or the meaning of a heart. I think it's quite special, a unique trait that could be given to anybody, and yet, it is entrusted to me.

So, why is Nikhai mentioning that the crest is hers? And that we share it? How? I voice my thoughts to her and she appears greatly confused, withdrawing her next words, looking scared. I circle my fingers around her hands, firmly holding it. "Nikhai, you have to tell me. You know something that I don't know."

"I don't know how to tell you . . ." she whispers, avoiding looking in my eyes.

"You have to. There must be a reason behind this . . . I'm trapped in my mind, Daematermon wants my - our crest and . . ." I loosen my hold, eying the small twin before me. "You were a Digidestined . . . Something happened to you in the past."

"I can't remember . . ." Finally, she bites on the knots, her eyes misting. 

I couldn't let my heart harden at the emotions. It's obvious that she has suffered a horrible event that traumatized her and perhaps brought her death earlier than it should be. Poor girl . . . I quietly sigh and look upward, hoping to see the face of Koushiro or even Yamato, who might see me somehow. _'Please . . . find out what has happened! We need to solve the mystery of the Final Battle and Daematermon. Do it before it's too late!'_

But I have no way to know if they are listening.

***

Fingers swiftly tapping on invisible squares that only he sees, the Unmon hummed to himself. He didn't remember if he enjoyed singing or even humming. All he knew was that humming seemed to come naturally, not noticing that his damaged voice was still working. He lost his voice in some battle he didn't remember, the voice box damaged beyond heal. He could speak, but the harshness, the tightness prevented him from speaking clearly and loudly. He rarely used it, only in the presence of his few friends. The voice didn't really bother him, but since one of his friends mentioned, with his face full of hope and despair, that his voice was angelic, singing breathtaking songs, the Unmon hesitated, puzzled at how was it possible that he once sang like an angel?.

He had the appearance of an Earth Chinese, with slanted eyes that were the deepest black possible and straight short black hair. His pale skin had darkened due to his constant exposure to the sun; he just loved the sun and can't imagine a world without a sun. Even though that he was an Unmon and had lived for thousands of years, he aged not. He appeared to be 19 Earth years old. His clothing was Unmon robes, common around his mysterious people. His robes was short to his knees, loose pants underneath, as male Unmons would wear, colored pale beige and soft to the touch. 

The hem colors were various around the Unmons, choosing their own colors to match their status. Unmons didn't believe in ranks and keeping their people apart over a mere position. They chose a position for their desire. His color was dark green among the hem, which meant he was a Hacker. Hackers worked with data to adapt the Digital World to the Earth's changes and altogether, set fire walls and codes to prevent nosy Humans to find out about the shadow world. It was hard work, constantly guarding the boundaries of his world, seeing no holes or tears to allow a peek through. The people the Hackers only allowed to enter the Digiworld were the Digidestined.

That was what he was doing, working on a keyboard that only can be visible by lightened squares appeared in the air. He was puzzled to see that every door in the Digiworld was closed by a mysterious force, but he didn't take it as a threat. It happened sometimes. Rarely, but it did happen. He wondered if he should acknowledge his companions about the mystery and decided against it. They would already notice and would not take it seriously, either. He then turned to other works, searching for data that required an update, when he received the weirdest feeling.

It came in ripples, first so faint and mild that he almost ignored, but as it came stronger and thicker in sensations, Isyn Unmon stopped working and sat silently, experiencing it. It was neither violent nor delicate. It was there, hard to ignore. He almost could see it, the pale white ripples billowing through the air. It had no source; it seemed to be straight from the very world's core, spreading upward, downward, and everywhere. He felt like the world was changing. It was changing without an Unmon's help, which was highly impossible. 

Isyn glanced upward and wasn't startled to see the change in the trees surrounding him. The leaves were changing black. It was unlikely that the leaves would change to that color and there was one reason that could explain why. The trees were shifting to viral.

_'Strange, indeed,'_ Isyn silently spoke, watching as the viral leaves spreading their blackness to the branches. The branches were dark brown-grey, and now, they were changing to a sickly grey-green hue, as if they were sick by the leaves. The world was turning viral. It happened once and only one time. Isyn mentally removed the keyboard and came to his feet, sitting up from a wide, flat rock. He strolled down the stone path he made until he arrived to a modest shore. He lived on an island, called Iota Islet by him, off the southern shore of Server Continent. The island's beach faced the mainland and Isyn didn't bother to hide himself from any prying eyes of Digimon. Unmon were supposed to be hidden, but Isyn was worried about the world that he assumed being hidden wasn't important anymore.

He suspected so. The mainland was covered with towering trees, the area uncharted and wild. And among the tops, the leaves were solid black. Black leaves upon grey-green trunks. A thought came to him and he was puzzled. _'Now where have I seen this before?' _he wondered as the faint, blurred memory appeared with visions of black leaves. It was the first time he had seen the black leaves, and yet the new memory told him that he already seen them before in another life. He took a sudden grasp on the memory, hoping against hope that he would remember more. His strength proved nothing. The memory smoothly slid out of his grasp and vanished back in sub-consciousness.

Isyn sadly frowned. He was an Unmon, but his friend told him that he had another life, a life as a human. At first, he thought it was absurd, but when strange, unfamiliar memories appeared recently, he wanted to know. He wanted to know who he was. There was emptiness inside him, a hollowness that was never sated even though he did everything to feel better. Nothing worked, not even the stories told by his friend. The hollowness swelled and the hurt came up in his throat, drying it. Isyn swallowed to ease it and turned back to the mainland. He didn't need to be hurt to remember.

As he walked up the path, he was stopped by singing. Not the sound of singing, but the memory of singing. It sounded so familiar, came so sudden that Isyn was taken back. It was familiar . . .

Isyn peered back to the black leaves, puzzled. He finally spoke, his lost voice struggling to form the word, "Ot-otam-amon?"

***                                                                                           

Flashes blinked and sounds of a sword slashing in the air filled his ears. The sounds were customary, comforted him, keeping him occupied. The twenty-one-years-old Unmon was practicing swordplay, though it was not necessary. But Unmons were the only Digimon that had no attributes, having no personal attacks, as weak as humans. So they had to use primitive weapons to protect themselves in occasional battles. Unmons didn't approve of fighting, considered themselves as peaceful people, accepted weapons only for protection. Unmons used swords, maces, staffs, knives, and whips, swords and staffs among the favored. 

Liu Unmon highly approved swordplay, for he had a fighting spirit. Few Unmons had the same fiery spirit as his, and he enjoyed practicing his adept swordplay to challenge his friends to mock battles. Even Unmons had their entertainment. Swordplay never bore him, his warrior spirit fit perfectly with the slender blue-tinted blade in his hands. Liu enjoyed watching his sword performing in lethal dances and whistling thrusts in the air. He was one of the top fighters among the swordsmen/women. Few can match his skills and ever fewer could even face him in battle. It wasn't that Liu favored fighting, or even wanted to challenge. The fighting spirit was all he had from his former past.

At the first glance, Liu had the look of a South American man, with dark tan skin and fox-brown eyes that often twinkled with pride. His robe and pants were beige, hemmed light blue, marking him as one of the Agents. Agents were often fighters who were willing enough to walk among Digimon, carefully to be hidden and yet made sure nothing harmed Digimon, like viruses or errors in data. This time, Liu chose to practice his swordplay before deciding to go down and observe the safety of his Security Mountains in Cipher Continent.

He almost didn't notice the ripples until he paused for a deep breath. He then recoiled at the slight taste of foulness in the air. It was enough to make him sick. Frowning at the taste, Liu sheathed his sword and peered from his place atop the highest peak toward the plains laying in the east. He saw nothing but swaying grasses and few migrating Digimon across the plains. Nothing that could state wrongness. But it seemed familiar.

"Now what? Another battle with the darkness?" he muttered to himself, wondering how the world can take with 'yet another evil' tainting it. He eyed eastward, seeing the ocean in between Cipher and Server, farther until he could imagine File Island in his mind. Nothing. He shifted his mind's eye southward and was startled to find that the foulness was thicker there. What was there? Nothing, probably, but he stayed on his mountains too long and he hadn't heard anything from several Agents who resided in Server about the foulness. Still, the foulness was familiar . . .

His frown deepened into a scowl. "Daematermon . . ." He knew who Daematermon was and bore deep hatred for her. She almost killed the Digiworld! How could he forgive her for murder? He knew that the Final Battle was coming, but not that soon.

He peered down the slopes of the mountain ridges, searching for stable ledges, and then he leaped off. He didn't know how he got the strange leaping ability, but he could leap high and can leap off steep slopes without slipping off. Some of his friends had joked that he was part mountain goat. He found it thrilling as he leaped from one ledge to other, the slope becoming more level. There, he stopped, quickly hiding behind a tall rock pillar before any Digimon could see him. He waited a few minutes until he was satisfied, then he pressed his hands upon the pillar.

There was only other three Unmons who had the same power as his. No other Unmons had it. Liu can control energy. Abruptly, a light came around his hands and arms, two colors mingling altogether two blues, sparkly sapphire blue that brightened each minute and the other blue, a woeful, sad blue that seemed to hold shame. The aura touched the rock for a moment, and Liu sighed, shaking his head, withdrawing his power. 

"It's not good. The world is too weak . . ."

His warrior soul burned and he was eager to face Daematermon, along with the Digidestined who were supposed to face her, too. He wanted to protect his world from the evil Mega, wanted to purify it from the foulness. A flash twinkled in his eyes and he didn't realize that he had drawn out his sword during his thoughts. He stared at the blade, softly twinkling with a sapphire blue light. His hands tightened on the hilt, feeling the fire coming in his chest . . .

He exhaled softly, sheathing his sword, holding his spirit down. "It's not my fight . . ." His eyes suddenly darkened with shame and hurt and he quickly turned back to where he once practiced.

***                                                                               

She did feel the ripples, taste the foulness, but her mind was on other things.

Citta Unmon paused in her tracks, a figure barely noticed in the vast meadow, a dark-skinned female Unmon not feared to hide from any Digimon. She lived here. No Digimon had lived here; only they lived in the boundary of trees. For a reason, the Digimon kept the meadow sacred, believing that something had happened here, believed that the First Battle happened here. Citta knew they were wrong, but she didn't even attempt to correct them. It wasn't her job.

The red hem on her robe-dress marked her as one of the Natives, the most common Unmon rank. The name Native meant nothing special, simply named the Unmons who lived in their home, preferred to live among each other on a continent only known as the Hack to the Digimon. The Natives lived as the Digimon and Humans lived, growing food, making supplies, taking care of the lands. They helped training the younger Unmons, who were a rarity, and seeing that their 'leaders', the white-hemmed Elders, served them well.

Citta was one of the rare Natives who enjoyed living on their own, almost as hermits. She had a reason to be a hermit Native, and it was not because she preferred her company to the others. It was her past. She was afraid of it, doubted herself that she was born an Unmon. She held such fear for thousands of years, worrying about the missing memories that her friend had mentioned about, even hiding from her Unmon companions. Who was she? She felt hollowness inside her, something missing that she couldn't identify. A part of her was gone. What part? She had no idea, remembering only the stories her friend told her, and even not believing him, then. She constantly avoided him, even knowing that she was deeply fond of him, returning his affection for her, but she was too afraid, and lately, he had stopped visiting. She didn't realize how much she missed him and desisted herself for being so reserved.

Many Unmons mentioned that she was elegant, with the dark brown skin that nearly shone black, equally black eyes that were like coals, and the tall, shapely body she had, seeming to hold an authority naturally. But then they did notice, but not telling, that there was a heavy sadness in her eyes, a great hurt that made them pity her. She knew those looks; they knew something about her that she didn't know and she didn't like it. So that's why she chose to live alone, living in one of the vast meadows of the world, Alpha Savannah in the Continent of Matrix.

Citta adjusted the red-hemmed shawl on her head, feeling the silky fabric. All female Unmons wore shawls, some preferring around their necks, and others liked covering their heads. Her robe was long to her ankles, flowing and fitting for travel, swaying around her legs from the winds that were common in Alpha Savannah. She absently gazed around the flowers she had personally grown, filling the very meadow itself. She didn't know why she enjoying gardening; there must be something, perhaps one of the missing memories, that roused her love for plants. 

It was her first time to leave her home, even traveling far to File Island to visit the Temple of the Digivice. She had a strange feeling that she was supposed to go there. The feeling seemed incomplete, for some purpose, but she was urged. Why is she supposed to go there? Is there someone to see? Or something that she should know? After heavy thoughts and gathering courage to leave her home, she arrived at the Temple. Centuramon was astonished to see her, but he treated her as if she was one of his dearest friends. Which puzzled her. She wanted to know. She did ask, and Centuramon answered.

Centuramon had the same story as her friend; Citta was a human before she became an Unmon. She knew the rest and stopped him from talking anymore. Still, the look in his red eye made her wonder. Maybe there was something more about her that he knew. She somewhat knew that it was not time for her to visit the Temple, not yet. She only had to wait for a sign. Centuramon encouraged her to trust herself and get ready for the future.

_What future? _Citta wondered. The minute she arrived home, she heard someone's voice. It was her friend. He came to visit! She wildly looked around in hope, but he wasn't here. Again, she used her special sight to peer all over the meadow to see if he was near. He wasn't there at all. Then she listened to the voice carefully. It sounded younger and full of cheer. The voice was from someone that loved to be happy all the time, see happiness in everything and would laugh whenever he pleased. Her friend rarely sounded happy lately, but the voice was his, although younger. She wanted to know . . .

Citta silently shook her head. It was useless . . . What was the point trying to find a life she lost when there was no memories to fondly remember? She took a shakily sigh and continued on her way to home. Whatever it was.

_***_

"I think he will like those," Elecmon said as he put down odd fruits that only can be described as tiny blue-skinned mangos. He sniffed them and smiled at the sweetness. "Tentomon told me they are one of his favorites."

Frankie eyed the mangos and shrugged. Although he liked the taste, he was nuts for nuts. "Yeah, he will love them." He focused his work on a red kettle in the fireplace. He carefully took the handle with a mitt and placed it on a wooden tray. He heard his Digimon gathering green bananas and nuts - yum, those red-shelled nuts were his favorite! - and placing them on a food tray. Frankie took five small cups, hoping they were enough, and put them on the kettle tray. 

The kitchen was the mother of kitchens. It basically had everything, from drawers full of silverware of every kind to an island in the center that was big enough for almost everybody for, along with a 'walk-in inlet' for storage to even a large cellar beneath to keep food cold. The kitchen seemed modern and at the same time old-fashioned. It had both a fireplace and few stoves, just enough to make unbearable heat. The counters and drawers were painted red and white, and the tiles were glaringly purple. The colors didn't matter at all; the kitchen was simply huge.

Elecmon made a quick run through the food and nodded in satisfaction. "Anything else?" he said to his partner.

Frankie shook his head. "Let's go." 

The human-Digimon carefully balanced the food tray on his arms as Frankie simply held the kettle tray as if it was part of him. The duo walked out into a hallway that seemed to lead forever, leading into a large dining room with several low tables, lined around with cushions for sitting. Mimi, Hikari, and Miyako were sitting at a table alone, chatting, waving at the duo before they left through the sliding door that was open to the outside.

Everything on Destiny Island was huge. There was an enormous Villa, easily dwarfed the dark mansion Sanimon dwelled. It was modestly colored, grey and green, naturally mingled in the surrounding jungle. The yards were wild, its grasses nearly a couple feet tall, but not hiding the numerous stone paths that seemed to lead to everywhere. A widespread field, flat and empty was set beside the right side of the Villa and beyond it; a garden was hidden behind tall hedges. There were two smaller buildings near the Villa; once they were looked inside, they were bedrooms, separated for boys and girls. Frankie and Elecmon didn't head for them, instead walked down a thin trail to a small cottage behind the girls' bedroom building. The cottage was used for one person dwelling, and Frankie knew who was sleeping there, his heart softening at the thought.

At the door, Frankie saw Black Wargreymon sitting beside it, cross-legged, strangely in mediation. Just like everybody else, Frankie was very astonished and cautious to see that Black Wargreymon was alive once again and acted like a guardian over the Digidestined. Only Agumon reassured them that Black Wargreymon might have realized his mistakes and was seeking to correct them. It didn't explain how he got to life. Black Wargreymon refused to tell, simply staring back with calmness that the person asking quickly withdrew the question. But soon, they noticed that Black Wargreymon was strangely nice and calm, unlike the insane, fiery warrior he once was. The only thing he asked from them was forgiveness for his mistakes. Remembering how he defeated Vampdevimon and saved Cleo was good enough for everybody to forgive him.

As the duo neared, Black Wargreymon gazed up, his golden eyes dim. Frankie flashed him a grin. "Good afternoon, Black Wargreymon. How are Izzy and Cleo?"

Black Wargreymon glanced to the door and replied, "He has finally fallen asleep since last night."

Frankie exhaled a sigh of relief, worried for the redhead. "It's good. I know he stays up by her side all day and night, but it won't do him good if he doesn't get enough sleep."

"You don't need to worry," the warrior sounded reassuring. "Ruigumon and I are here to watch over her."

The warrior has chosen to be Cleo's 'other' guardian, sitting beside the door and watching every person entering. Taichi said that Cleo might be more important to the Digidestined than they thought so and it would be safer to have Black Wargreymon, an almighty warrior, to protect Cleo and make sure she won't be disturbed.

Elecmon was grinning, saying, "Don't forget about all of us. We are watching over her, too."

Black Wargreymon seemed to smile, though his black mask hid it. "Yes, and she needs your protection." His eyes slightly narrowed. "We cannot allow the Daemon Mother to find her."

"She will not find us here," was the Keeper's firm reply, and at that, Black Wargreymon nodded in satisfaction.

The fox nudged his partner with an elbow, "Come on, Frankie, they will get grumpy if we don't get the food to them." As Frankie chuckled, Elecmon gazed toward Black Wargreymon. "Would you like a fruit, too?"

Black Wargreymon actually looked lightly bashful, blinking. His voice was suddenly quiet, timid, "You're being too nice to me . . ."

Elecmon shook his head. "I don't have any grudge on you, not anybody else. For once, I'm glad you're on our side."

Black Wargreymon tilted his great head in mild curiosity. "Do you . . . trust me?"

"Seeing that you gave your life for Cleo's protection, yes, I do."

"I do, too," Frankie agreed as he gave the Mega a green banana. Black Wargreymon modestly took it and bowed deeply to them as they entered the cottage. Frankie's face softened, concerned as he regarded the sight before him. The room was small, meant for a person to sleep in the center. The walls were plain, painted light blue and the floor was wooden, squeaking under feet. At his right, a window was open, allowing the fresh air cleansing the room. Ruigumon was sitting there, staring. Frankie only can imagine the pain she was experiencing. And in the center . . . Poor Cleo . . . The tiny Watcher was in a bed, a feathery mattress with thick blankets tucked and up to her shoulders. She hasn't wakened in four days. She had lost consciousness when Daematermon got the ugly grey aura on her and no one had figured out how to wake her up. It was like she was in a coma.

He heard a yawn and turned to see the redhead sitting up from his own bedding, rubbing his tired eyes, aroused by Tentomon. He forced a merry smile. "Rise and shine!"

Tentomon lightly laughed, trying to straighten his messy red hair, as Koushiro grumbled, stretching his limbs. He glared back with deep black eyes. "You're awfully cheerful today, Frankie."

"It's only afternoon," Frankie said as he and Elecmon put the tray on a small table in the corner. "The day is still young."

Koushiro's glare faded into a sober visage that almost flared. His voice was low. "That's not what I mean . . ."

The Keeper knelt down, boldly meeting his gaze. "Koushiro, please." He didn't plead, just calm. The Warder didn't say anything more, keeping on staring back. There was an uneasy silence, and Elecmon cleared his throat to break it.

"Um, is everybody hungry?" he said, kneeling and elbowing Frankie.

"As a matter of fact, I am," Tentomon said, sitting down beside Koushiro and got him a banana. He even got the mango and handed it to Koushiro, who accepted it and silently peeled off the blue skin. 

Frankie sighed, mentally thanking Tentomon, and turned to the other Digimon. "Ruigumon?"

The Butterfly turned her bald head and shook her head. There was agony in her orange eyes.

"Please, Ruigumon," Tentomon pleaded. "You need to gather your energy."

Ruigumon exhaled softly, but then knelt beside Frankie, absently eating nuts.

Frankie shook his head at the sad sight, wishing that he could cheer them up. He knew that it would be hard because Koushiro was very close to Cleo and was deeply anxious for her, and Ruigumon who sulked and scolded herself for not protecting her ward as she promised to. Everyone tried to cheer them, but they were too stubborn to allow any mirth in their present dark moods. 

He wasn't here to cheer them up, but simply wanted to be with them for a while, giving them comfort when he can. He took the task to pour green tea in the five cups, asking the question that he knew will pain them further. "How is Cleo?"

The Digimon said nothing. Tentomon peered up to Koushiro worriedly as Elecmon buried his mouth in the mango, not wanting to say something wrong. Ruigumon's face darkened in silence. Koushiro froze in peeling off the last skin and sighed tiredly, glancing over to the sleeping Cleo. "Still sleeping, as you see. I'm getting worried, Frankie. She hasn't wakened since we got here." He frowned darkly. "Daematermon must have done that to her."

_I know, I know . . ._ Frankie silently spoke, knowing what has happened. Koushiro repeated these words as if they were the only reasons he kept his anger on the Daemon Mother. Frankie almost felt the electric discharges around Koushiro's body, a rare result of his anger. Koushiro got solemn angry, and Frankie didn't recall a time when he saw him angry. He wasn't disturbed; he wasn't here to listen to his anger. "Calm down, Izzy."

His black eyes flashed at him. "That's what Tai said, Joe said, Kim, Cody, everybody. I can't calm down! Not when she's in a coma."

Frankie bristled, hardly getting upset that fast, but hearing the bitter words snapped at him for no apparent reason made him snap, too. He knew that Koushiro was lately caustic and grumpy, blaming the coma on himself and everybody. The group did understand; he must be very worried over Cleo, but not everybody was that sympathetic. Frankie didn't need to hear it again. His goal was to keep Koushiro reassured and calm. That was all.

He tightened his hand on the redhead's arm, voicing calmly, "Kou-kun, I'm not here to repeat what everybody else did. I want to send my time with you." His composed words somewhat chastised Koushiro, who bit his next words in the blue slice. Frankie attempted to grin at him, failed and sighed. "I know we can't idle while she is like this, but to be honest, there is nothing we can do for now. We are too weak against Vampdevimon and Daematermon, so we cannot do anything. We don't know what else to do. All we can do is rest, gather our energy, and try to figure what next to do." His hazel eyes slid over to the sleeping blonde. "Right now, at least, Cleo is safe, away from Daematermon. She will not find her. Prophetmon said so."

"Yeah, who left us," Ruigumon growled, almost throwing the nuts down on the tray.

"He said he will be back," Frankie tried to sound confident.

Ruigumon shook her head, her face darkened. "It doesn't matter if he will be back or not. He wasn't even trying to stay for a second! He's supposed to stay and protect my Cleo as he promised. Where is he?" No one had the answer, and Ruigumon took a quivering breath, eyes misting. "I . . . I apologize for my burst." Unable to control her tears, she departed.

Koushiro was watching the door closing, a pensive look in his face. "I understand what she feels. I admit that I was upset with Prophetmon, too, that he left so suddenly when he should've stayed . . . But then he must have a reason to leave . . ." His shoulders shrugged. "You are right, Frankie. She is safe . . . for now."

The Keeper watched the Warder eating some more slices before shifted his gaze back to the Watcher. He recalled the sudden change of events happening in the four days. He, as the rest, was surprised to see Prophetmon with the Fate Digimon showing up all of a sudden, out of the blue, halting the Daemon Mother before she could grab on the Crest of Heart, and forming a 'hole' in the air. When they got through the hole, they were even more surprised to see that they were at Destiny Island, the hole somewhat acting like some kind of door opening between dimensions.

Prophetmon, looking oddly shaken, particularly pleaded the party to remain here, for it was the safest place to hide from Daematermon. But before anybody could question him, he took a look at the comatose Cleo in Ruigumon's arms and got troubled. He seemed very upset, though he was suppressing his emotions. Again, he told the group to stay for their safety before he vanished, searching for answers, as he said. 

Of course, no one understood. After many demands and questions, the Fate Digimon only can respond that there was nothing to do at the moment. The Digidestined considered to return home, ready to sleep in their real beds, but to their astonishment and fright, the four computer screens that were in the Villa were blank, unable to call up the Digiports. Something was blocking them from leaving. Some thought it was Daematermon while the others believed their D-3s weren't working this time. They were stuck here.

The Fate Digimon tried to explain as much as they can, not knowing much about what was happening, either. Akemimon mentioned that the Digiworld's time has speeded up by his demand in order to make the kids' time easier, so that the time in the Real World would slow down to a possible minute. Amayamon also added that it was safe and better for the Digidestined and the Destined Digimon to rest and get ready for the Final Battle, whenever it was, even though they didn't know how to defeat her yet. Black Wargreymon simply said that he was asked by Prophetmon to protect the Digidestined.

The Villa was built suitable for the group; it was like it was made just for them. They didn't have noticed the Villa last time because it was hidden on a huge wide-spaced glade in the middle of a jungle. The group accepted the Villa as their new home, quickly finding a secluded place for Cleo to sleep in peace and taking to sleep in their bedrooms,  exhausted; they had a bit of rest and no sleep. Cleo never woke up from her coma and everybody stayed by her, especially Koushiro, to make sure she was comfortable and in hopes that she would wake soon. 

The Old Digimon seemed undisturbed in their human bodies, answering their partners' questions. They had experienced it before, during the three years between the first adventure and the New Kids' arrival. They had no idea how did the alteration be possible, only guessing from Vampdevimon's words that the data was merely altered, shifting the Digimon bodies into human bodies. The only problem the Digimon-humans - now called as the Gijinka Digimon - had was that they lost their attacks and attributes during the alteration. They were defenseless. There was the other reason why the Digidestined decided to stay at Destiny Island, to protect their now helpless Digimon. No one really knew why the Digimon were in their human bodies. Perhaps Vampdevimon was the only one who knew.

With all the strange happenings, some of the group knew that there were answers somewhere that were supposed to help them out. The riddles remained unsolved. Prophetmon was nowhere to find. Cleo was in a coma. The Digidestined were stuck, unable to return home. But Vampdevimon or Daematermon hasn't attacked, which could be a good thing balanced against the bad things. Everybody began to relax, though still concerned of what happened on the other lands. The Fate Digimon won't let them to leave the island, for it was too dangerous. 

It was four days since they first met the Daemon Mother. It was a long and restless rest.

***

Wild laughing filled the air as an open flat field was used for soccer playing.

The Old Kids were restless, worried, but the New Kids were still kids and they can't stand the uneasy silence and impatient anxiety. They wished to cheer the group up, and so all the New Kids and their Digimon decided to have a day to play soccer for simple fun. The open field, laying in between the Villa and a maze-like garden, was perfect for playing. 

Hikari sat on a long bench under a wide roof at the side of the field, watching with Michael. Lopmon was sitting on her lap, also watching. The rest were running, passing the soccer ball around - there was a small storage filled with sport stuff, to the kids' surprise - shooting it and blocking. Hikari thought, at first, it was strange because they were playing while the Digiworld was in danger. But then, as Miyako told her, it will do them good because too much sadness, gloom, and fear were hanging in the air and a bit cheer will help them feel better. Hikari agreed, smiling with mirth, as she enjoyed the game. Michael wasn't a soccer fan, but had volunteered to be one of the cheerleaders, whooping his team on.

One team had Daisuke, Takeru, Miyako, Veemon, Patamon, Hawkmon, and Betamon as the goalie. Of course, Michael would cheer that team on, because of his Digimon. Hikari cheered for the other team, which had Ken, Iori, Willis, Wormon, Terriermon, Gatomon, and the perfect goalie, Armadillomon. There were no rules; they just wanted to have fun and encouraged the less enthusiastic players to join in.

"Come on, man!" Michael cupped his mouth with a hand and stabbed the air with the other fist as he barked at Hawkmon. Hawkmon had the ball at his claws, surprisingly swift as he dodged Terriermon. Michael suppressed a groan as Willis clumsily stole the ball from Hawkmon, making him trip. The blonde quickly passed it to Iori before Daisuke collapsed into him. Iori was fast, to Hikari's surprise, but recalling one of the 'side effects' from Iori's Power, which helped him run faster, half as fast as Koushiro. Iori neared the goal, where Betamon nervously waited, his ruby eyes on the spinning ball. Iori looked eager and mischievous as he passed the ball to Gatomon, who shot the ball right in the net.

Hikari's cheers drowned in her team's shouts of delight, Lopmon silently giggling and bouncing on her lap. But the cheers were short, for the other team was eager to score.

"Aw," Michael muttered good-naturedly as he returned to his seat beside Hikari. After a minute watching some more, he smiled, turning to her, saying, "I never know that soccer can be so fun."

Hikari nodded in agreement. "It's really amazing that I still enjoy it, even that I had watched my brother and Davis countless times."

"Still, I prefer basketball."

"Bet you that I'm better." He gave her a charming grin.

_Boys will be boys,_ she thought, but then amiably smiled back. For several more moments, the Saint and Patron, along with Lopmon, enjoyed the game. Daisuke's team was winning, but really, no one cared. They played just for fun.

"So, this is soccer . . ."

The soft, deep voice behind didn't startle Hikari and Michael, though surprised them that someone new was here on Destiny Island. Turning around, they found a tortoise standing beside them, peering over the log. He looked very ancient, though he didn't show it. Powerful wisdom burned in his black button eyes, which were watching the game through tiny spectacles. Standing on short legs, he seemed to be slightly shorter than Iori, dressed in a plain dark green robe. The green-grey shell on his back was wide and thick, its plates large and blue-tinted.

Hikari might be surprised to see this new Digimon, but even more surprisingly, she saw Sanimon standing behind the Tortoise Digimon, giving him a fond smile before silently looked at her.

"Oh . . . It's a surprise to see another Digimon here . . ." Hikari's tan eyes slightly narrowed toward the red-robed childlike Digimon. "Especially you, Sanimon." Her voice didn't hold disdain, just composed.

Sanimon bowed, her voice equally calm, "I have my reasons to be here, Saint."

Hikari watched her for a moment, and then quietly spoke, "I have to admit that . . ." Her smile was warm and welcome. "It's nice to see you again, Sanimon."

Sanimon noticed her smile and also grinned, somewhat relieved and grateful. The last caution between them evaporated, replaced with trust. "It warms my heart to hear your words." She then turned her golden eyes to the Tortoise, who was still watching the game with fascination. Her voice turned playful. "Oldster, do you always forget to introduce yourself?"

He turned around to frown at her with mock annoyance. "I didn't forget!"

"Senile." Sanimon smiled.

The Tortoise waved a dismissing paw toward the Guardian, muttering to the kids, "Ignore her. I'm Vesamon."

Vesamon? Why did it sound familiar . . .? Realization dawned on Hikari's face. "Vesamon! TK told me about you!"

Vesamon looked bashful. "Oh, he did? What did he say about me?"

"And conceited, too," Sanimon added, grinning at Vesamon's grumbling.

Michael laughed, addressing Vesamon, "Are you one of the Guardians, like Sanimon?"

"Guardian? Me?" He cackled, shaking his head. "I'm just a regular, old Digimon. It's bad enough to stick around with _her!_" He stabbed a thumb toward Sanimon.

"I'm feeling so loved here, Vesamon," Sanimon said, batting her eyelashes, nudging him.

Stay away, womon!"

The Tortoise and the Guardian seemed to be long and good friends that the kids grinned at that; such friendships were rare. Hikari wondered how they met. Sanimon was isolated and preferred to remain at her mansion-temple, and from what she knew from Takeru, Vesamon was a hermit.

Michael again asked both, "How did you get here? I thought Destiny Island is inaccessible."

"Not to the Guardians," Sanimon responded. "I was asked to come here, along with Vesamon."

"By Prophetmon," Vesamon added, now seriously looking around. Hikari thought she saw recognition in the black eyes.

"Vesamon!" Sanimon hissed, wide-eyed to him. "We must not say his name!"

Hikari immediately understood; Prophetmon was concealed all his life and very few had personally met him. No one really knew his real name, called him only by 'The Prophet'. "It's alright," she said. "We already know about him and met him. Cleo introduced him."

Sanimon looked astonished and slightly grimaced. "She did . . .?" She appeared to consider it, and then sighed. "Prophetmon must have a reason to let you know about him . . ."

Vesamon shrugged, smiling. "He is cryptic and you know that." But Hikari again noticed the secrecy in his eyes; did he personally know Prophetmon? Vesamon took a long gaze around the field, the Villa and the distant garden before turned back to Hikari and Michael. "Is Prophetmon here somewhere? I must talk with him."

Michael shook his curly hair. "No, he left four days ago."

Vesamon looked anxious. " . . . I hope he is okay . . ."

"Vesamon!" Hikari heard Takeru's excited voice bursting in the air.

Vesamon sharply looked up and his face softened into a kind grin. Takeru was running toward them, his face full of surprise and gladness. Hikari also grinned; Takeru must be excited to see one of his newfound friends present. "Why, hello, Savior," Vesamon laughed as he welcomed the boy in his embrace.

"TK, you ruined the game!" Daisuke grumbled, his eyebrows crossed, as the rest arrived slower in curiosity.

"Hush, Davis," Hikari giggled, elbowing him into silence.                                                                

Takeru knelt beside, pleasant. "I never thought to see you here! I never had to chance to thank you for what you did for us."

Vesamon grunted, but grinned. "Seeing you well is just good enough for this old tortoise." He then regarded him carefully and satisfyingly, his paw reaching to touch the fair hair. "You've grown up into a handsome boy."

Takeru's cheeks slightly blushed because of the chuckling boys behind him, but then hugged Vesamon again. "I really miss you."

"TK, who is he?" Ken questioned politely.

"Oh, sorry about that," Takeru stood up, smoothing his green robe, and gestured toward Vesamon. "This is Vesamon, my dear friend. When we were trapped here, Vesamon took care of me, Sora, and Izzy. I never forget his kindness."

Vesamon nodded at the brief introductions given by the other Digidestined and Digimon, and then looked at Takeru. "Speaking of which, how are the Seeker and Warder?"

"Oh, they will be so thrilled to see you!" Takeru grinned. "We should introduce you to the rest."

Sanimon quickly withdrew a hand from her enfolded sleeves and held up an index finger. "In a minute . . ."

At that, Vesamon rolled his eyes and glanced at her. "Oh, Sanimon, must you? Look, they already received them." For some reason, he even tugged on Takeru's green robe for emphasis.

Sanimon giggled, tried to keep a serious face. "I know that. I'm just curious at how they did it."

"Did what?" Daisuke demanded.

"You found your Armor Powers, right?"

"You knew?" Willis was surprised, but Hikari knew. He was the only Old Kid who didn't know about Sanimon's role.

"Judge, I'm known as the Guardian of the Digidestined. I always know," Sanimon replied with a smile. "And plus, your outfits already showed it."

"And you came here to say that to us?" Iori was puzzled.

The Guardian shook her head. "No, I was asked by Prophetmon to come here to help you. But I don't think I need to. You seem to handle it fine."

"How unusual . . ." Vesamon grunted, crossing his arms. 

"Something wrong?" Michael questioned.

"Oh, nothing really. I'm just surprised that Prophetmon asked us to leave our homes to here. I know that we aren't safe over there, but then . . ." Vesamon adjusted his eyeglasses, his motion seeming anxious. "He sounded really insistent. I know him well; he isn't a commanding person."

Sanimon agreed. "He's been acting strange lately. Have you noticed such actions from him?"

"He seemed upright when he brought us here," Gatomon reported. "He was upset about something and told us to stay here and not to stray."

"Interesting . . ." She made a small shrug, though worried. "Well, it doesn't matter right now. You are safe and in one piece, which I'm thankful. You got your powers, so we will need all the help we can get to defeat Daematermon."

The Kids and Digimon grew grim, nodding, understanding. Then, Willis, who was sitting back against the log, shook his head as if he was puzzled. "Wait a minute . . . I didn't have the chance to ask before, and now I want to know." His cobalt eyes shifted up to Hikari and Takeru. "I have a feeling that you already know about our powers before we did. After all, you used them to help me."

So, the secret had to be out. Hikari didn't need to look at Takeru to know the answer. She knew that someday, their friends will find out and demand to know how they knew about the Armor Powers. It was only fair to them. Hikari faintly smiled, saying, "You are right, Willis. We did know about the Armor Powers, but not from what you think. When we first got our Digieggs, these powers woke through and we weren't certain if we are the only ones to have them. But then since you do have Armor Digieggs, you might have the powers, too. So you didn't know about the Armor Powers while we already know."

It was true of what happened. In the cave where they first saw the Armor Digieggs of Hope and Light, Takeru and Hikari got a funny feeling, a new spirit coming in their bodies. They then knew by receiving the Digieggs. In the flashes of light, in the instants, they immediately simply knew that they had new powers from the Armor Digieggs, even seen the changes of their clothes and new weapons. The new powers then were veiled along with their Nature Powers, not ready to be used. Iori never knew about it. Takeru and Hikari wanted to tell them that they will have powers, but by then, Taichi had 'forbidden' them to reveal their powers, and so they kept the new powers a secret, not even letting the older kids know about them. Takeru and Hikari weren't feeling guilty to tell, for they suspected that someday, something will happen to the New Kids and they will get their powers.

When they saw Willis receiving his new Power, they decided that it was time for them to freely use their new powers to aid him.

The New Kids looked surprised and puzzled. "Why didn't you tell us earlier?" Miyako asked.

Hikari sighed. "We could, but . . ."

"They could tell," Sanimon added, "But they know that you have to find your powers on your own."

"Just like we did," Takeru nodded.

Hikari noticed slight pain coming on Sanimon's face and remembered her own time when she had to defeat the Guardian to save her brother. The Guardian was nodding. "Yes, TK and Kari are already exposed to their Nature Powers, so their bodies, their minds are open to other powers." She glanced to Takeru and Hikari. "Your powers woke instantly because you were ready." Then she looked back to the other new Kids. "The rest of you, you weren't ready, so for a time, your Powers slept until certain events triggered to the awakening."

The Kids slowly comprehended. "Yes," Iori understood, "our Protectors were in trouble, so we called on our powers for the first time."

"What did it happen?"

"About four days ago, I believe."

Sanimon blinked in disapproval. "That recent? At the same time?" As the Kids nodded, she shook her head. "Unusual."

Daisuke glanced to his friends in puzzlement, then to her. "Why would it be unusual?"

The red-robed Digimon hid her hands in the wide sleeves thoughtfully. "Don't you find it odd that your powers woke at the same time? Doesn't it seem  . . . too coincidental?"           

"You are right," Takeru had to admit, his face pondering. "We found our other powers randomly." 

_Even so, everybody except me and Frankie found their powers almost at the same time, _Hikari added to her thoughts. _Still, he is right._

"And even so, it might be coincidental," Ken said. "We got our powers altogether is because, maybe, after our battle with Vampdevimon, somehow we all got trapped in the Old Kids' memories and we -"

Vesamon sharply cut him off, "Wait!" His eyes were wide, startled. "You said you got trapped in memories? What kind of memories?"

Ken answered, "They were memories where the Old Kids met their dark selves."

The Tortoise narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "Before that happened . . . did you experience a white light and . . . distortion, chaos?" When all the kids nodded in response, his face softened, shaking his head. "It's the doing of Daematermon, I know it."

_How did he know about Daematermon?_ Hikari wondered. "Daematermon did that to us? How?"

Vesamon looked up to her and there was dread in his black eyes. "Daematermon is the Final Evil."

The Kids and Digimon murmured and gasped in astonished disbelief. Miyako set her hand at the height of a small child, her eyes wide. "Daematermon? That Digimon that looks like a little girl?"

"You saw her?" Sanimon sharply turned to her, also incredulous. At the nod, she hissed an inhale through clenched teeth and glanced to Vesamon, who was suddenly saddened and concerned.

Vesamon again adjusted his eyeglasses, this time in troubled caution. "Not even Apocalypmon's and Myalomyotismon's Powers could match up to hers. She has attacks that are unheard and mysterious. The one she probably used on you is called 'Dark Nostalgia'. It can send a victim within a memory that has the darkest moment of his life, a memory that can keep him trapped. It's a perfect trap for anybody to stay out of the way, the memory being too real that it distorts the reality." He eyed the New Kids with puzzlement, and then shook his head. "Perhaps, she used it to call on the Nature Children's memories to 'keep them away'."

"But how did we get in the memories?" Michael asked. "They aren't ours."

Hikari found it puzzling. If what Vesamon said was true, it didn't seem to fit with what she had seen at the dark beach. It was possible that the dark beach was from Cleo's memories since she was there many times, but it was her first time to face her dark self. How could it be possible to experience a memory if Cleo never remembered it? If Takeru, Hikari, and Willis did experience the Dark Nostalgia, how come that they didn't get in the memories as the other New Kids did? She glanced briefly to Takeru, who looked puzzled, then to Willis, who was gazing back. He shared her thoughts and was bewildered, too.

Vesamon was shrugging at Michael's question, not knowing the answer. "It's a mystery . . . Maybe you got sucked in."

"Even so," Sanimon pondered, "it was possible that it triggered your powers to wake up that quick."

Miyako made a half-smile, seeming amused of something. "So, in a way, Daematermon helped us find our powers."

Some of the kids glanced to her in agreement, and Vesamon nodded. "Indeed."

Daisuke sat down beside Willis and crossed his arms. "Well, I think it doesn't matter anymore about this Dark Nostalgia. We got our powers as we're supposed to be, and our Protectors are safe."

"Except Cleo . . ." Willis murmured softly, bowing his head.

Again, Sanimon was demanding as she asked, "What happened, Judge?"

Willis didn't answer, closed his eyes. Terriermon and Lopmon quickly were at his side, murmuring comfort. Daisuke threw his arm around his shoulders and gave him comfort as Hikari spoke, "Cleo is in some kind of coma . . . She won't wake up . . . we think Daematermon did it to her." Her voice was heavy with worry, as well as the worry on the others' faces. Cleo may be the newest Digidestined, but still, she was important and a sweet friend.

Sanimon stared back, almost angry of something, perhaps at Daematermon as Vesamon sadly shook his head, reaching down to rub the Judge's shoulder for relief. Sanimon glanced down to Willis, who she knew that was Cleo's ward. Her lips tightened, but then she said calmly, "I see that there is much more to what you are saying, so won't we save it for later when we have time? It's getting dark."

The sky wasn't darkening that far, but the sun was sinking already, near the horizon, and the eastern sky was turning darker blue. Miyako suggested returning to the Villa, for the Old Kids would like to see Sanimon and Vesamon again. The Kids and Digimon gathered their soccer stuff and they were on their way, walking down a stone path that was wide, leading straight from the Villa, past the boundary of the field, toward the garden's entrance. They only walked for a minute before Sanimon realized something.

"Oh, I almost forgot," Sanimon said. As Vesamon muttered something about making an elder waiting too long, she walked around to Michael and gazed up to his face. "Have you told them about your power, Reality Child?"

_Reality Child?_ Hikari, along with the rest, turned to Michael in puzzlement. The blonde was taken back at Sanimon's words, and then frowned uneasily. "Sanimon, I promised my -"

"Promises, schmromises! You know it's not necessary to keep it a secret." Sanimon gestured toward the New Kids. "They have powers. You have other powers. Let them know."

Michael looked like he wanted to refuse, but then he sighed, running a hand through his curly hair.

"What's she talking about, Glass?" Takeru asked gently.

"TK, you should've known this already," Sanimon said with a slight smile. "Every group of Digidestined has its own unique powers. Your Protectors are called as the Children of the Nature because they control Nature. You, the Children of the Armor, are such named because you used the Armor Digieggs as powers." There were far more powers? Hikari was incredulous. The idea of having powers no longer sounded mystic, now seemed mundane. 

"Then how come you call him a Reality Child?" Armadillomon questioned.

Sanimon nodded, "Because he and his other friends do have powers, different from yours, called as the Children of the Reality."

Hikari nodded that Michael looked somewhat embarrassed, rubbing his head. He didn't seem abashed of his power, didn't see his power as big deal.

"You have another power?" Iori murmured.

Michael then smiled and nodded. "Yes, I do have another power." He held up six fingers. "There are six powers that my friends and I control: Time, Fate, Force, Energy, Space, and Shape."

"How do they work as Powers?" Daisuke asked the question everybody else was thinking.

"These powers are what control the universe. Like the Old Kids control Nature and you control Armor Digieggs, we, the Children of Reality, control the Powers of Reality. Let me explain more." Michael explained that the powers were what ruled the universe itself, how to keep it going. Maria, the little Hispanic girl, controlled Shape, in which was that she can use it to change objects, energy, basically everything in shape. Whatever texture, material, or substance, she can easily change it into a completely different object. Lou, the Hopi Digidestined, controlled Force, which were gravity and magnetism altogether. Picking up things, pulling them down, or throwing them was his specialty.

The French-Canadian Tatum had her power of Energy. She can take pure energy use it as a force, throwing it as balls or streaks. Scientifically, creating or destroying energy is impossible, but Michael mentioned that Tatum _can _do that with no problems. Steve, the Jewish boy, used Space as his power. Space seemed to be simple, yet complex, for Steve can use it to stretch direction to make it seem that he was standing miles and miles away or squeeze it, making Steve moving closer and closer without actually moving in place. Michael said it was useful to escape from a battle they didn't want to face, Steve simply stretching the distance in between, pushing the battling Digimon miles away.

Phil and Michael's powers were most difficult. Phil controlled Fate, which was very odd and mysterious. The Power didn't make Phil psychic or knowing what will happen in the future. Fate worked differently. He can use his power to control Fate itself, finding possibilities at the moment and change Fate to favor them. It was an uncontrollable power and didn't always work that way as he expected. It could happen anytime, without a warning, could be either good or bad, could be anything. Michael's Power was Time. He can simply stop Time in motion, speed it up, and age an object forward and backward.

The group was awed, amazed with the infinite possibilities to use these powers, Time being most interested, for everybody knows that Time cannot be controlled or even seen or felt.

"Can you really go back in time?" Daisuke asked.

Michael shook his head. "There are limits to my powers. To me, Time is alive, eternal, and cannot be changed once it is past. I cannot go back in time physically, but I can see back in time and see the near future, too. Also, I cannot stop Time too long. Time is too strong for me to control fully. Phil and I have difficulty controlling our powers and the rest are capable to use their powers with little problems."

"How does Time affect you?" Wormon voiced. "What are the side effects?"

Michael thought for a moment, and then said, "I can sense a person in time. Like I'm sensing you guys right now, and I can sense someone in the near past or in the near future. It's like someone leaves its body print in the fabric of Time."

"Like a footprint in the mud," Betamon helped out.

"Sounds like Time is prophetic," Takeru said.

The Patron chuckled. "Not exactly. It works really different."

Takeru nodded, and then grinned. "If you don't mind, can you show a bit of your power?"

Hikari thought she saw a twinkle of mischief in the ice-blue eyes, making Michael much alike to his Protector. Michael arched an eyebrow, grinning foxily. "Sure, I can do that, but are you sure you are ready for this?"

The rest nodded, but Sanimon made a cautious squeal and shuffled out of the way, standing far. "Keep me out of this."

Michael laughed. "Fair enough." He jerked a thumb to her, saying to the Kids, "I did that to her one time."

"Hmpf!" Sanimon crossed her arms, but still she smiled, as Betamon wisely bounced to her side, also staying out of the way.

Hikari had to laugh; she wondered what Michael did to the Guardian before and wondered what can he do to the New Kids . . . It was bizarre. First, she remembered that she was chuckling, standing beside Miyako, the next second, she felt ripples in the air, feeling like water against her skin and through it, as well. Then she found herself restfully cradling in Daisuke's strong arms, her arms around his neck. Patamon was sitting on Daisuke's head, perching as he would on Takeru's head. Daisuke blinked, looking down in great perplexity. Hikari was confused, too, and then looked around at the surprised yelps.

Around her, the Kids and Digimon were in funny stances. Willis seemed to dance with Veemon and Hawkmon, hands in paws and feather-hands, dancing in a circle. They were astonished and let go of each other, looking at each other in bewilderment. Takeru was 'buried' by Miyako, who was laying on her stomach on his back, Gatomon on Miyako's back, and in turn, Wormon sat on Gatomon's back, too, making a pyramid. Wormon hurriedly crawled off her before Gatomon leaped off in surprise. Miyako withdrew herself off and helped Takeru to his feet, both blushing. Iori was piggy-backed on Ken's back, both faintly amused, and beside them, poor Vesamon and Armadillomon were on their shelled backs, rocking slightly. It was a moment before they squealed, trying to get up.

"Michael, ya blockhead!" Armadillomon hollered as he insanely rocked on his shell after a failed attempt to get up. 

Michael, Sanimon, and Betamon were rolling on the ground, laughing hard, tears streaming on their faces. Iori and Ken hastened to gently help Vesamon and Armadillomon up to their feet. 

Vesamon had a distant look in his face as he glared at Michael. "You could've warned us . . ."

Sanimon managed to respond, "He already did," between giggles.

"Thanks, man!" Daisuke guffawed as he tightened his hold on Hikari. "I got Kari!" Hikari realized that she was in his arms for a bit too long, and she quickly got off, to his disappointment. She tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she dusted her clothes.

"You stopped Time, right?" Takeru wondered.

Michael shook his head. "Just around you. I can't stop time everywhere, but only around you." He the grinned. "Hey, don't blame everything on me. Sanimon and Betamon had the ideas."

"Good way to play a prank, huh?" Daisuke grinned mischievously, a new twinkle in his tawny eyes.

"You betcha!" Michael also had the same twinkle.

Miyako whirled at them, glaring. "You wouldn't dare!" 

The Patron and Brother only stared back innocently.

Hikari giggled, and then asked Michael, "I'm curious . . . only your friends have these powers?"

"Yep."                                       

"Then why can't Willis have one?"

Willis blinked and turned to her. "What do you mean, Kari?"

"You are an American Digidestined, like him. Shouldn't you have one of those Reality Powers?"

Michael was shaking his head. "So far, as I know, these are only six powers of Reality."

Hikari expected the answer. "Yes, but we didn't know that there are eleven powers of Nature, not ten." There could be even more that she didn't know.

The Judge shrugged. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Does it matter?" Hikari also shrugged, for she didn't know for sure.

"Guys," Iori murmured, sounding fascinated, "I just realized something. If we and the American Digidestined have powers, perhaps, don't you think that the other Digidestined might have similar powers?"

The kids grinned, thinking of the possibilities. "For a reason," Miyako said, her dun eyes sparkling, "I don't doubt that. I wonder what kind of powers Yuri, Sonya, and Tanya have."

"The Poi brothers and Mira . . ." Hikari remembered.

"Derek," Iori nodded.

"Catherine!" Takeru chuckled.

"Even little Rosa," Ken voiced.

"Hey, Sanimon, which powers do they have?" Daisuke was curious, leaning toward her.

Sanimon chuckled, but shook her head. "I can't tell you until you earn their trust. Besides it's best to ask them." Winking at the disappointed face of Daisuke, she turned on her feet and headed for the Villa.

Vesamon rolled his eyes once again, a juvenile action for the ancient Digimon. "Sanimon can be sly when she wants to." He then rolled up his sleeves, a grin on his beak. "Now, shall we go back? I want to cook you dinner."

Takeru suddenly laughed, slapping his forehead. "That's right! I hope your delicious stew looks much better than before!"

Vesamon gasped in mock offense, but the grin was still there. "Gracious good! I will cook you the most delicious meal, no matter how ugly it looks!" Together, the blonde and Tortoise walked down the path, laughing, leaving the rest in amused puzzlement.

Veemon turned to them, pointing to the duo, saying, "Funny, despite what he said, I'm getting hungry!"

***

The New Kids may seem optimistic and preferred not to brood over negative feelings and words, but the Old Kids knew better. They were the oldest Digidestined around and had high connection with the Digimon and the world itself. They knew how the world and Digimon feel very well, because of their Nature Powers, which allowed them to understand what they feel, what they suspect, and now they felt something not right about the world. Recently, from the moment the party arrived to Destiny Island by the aid of Prophetmon and the Fate Digimon, they experienced something new, something odd. They began to feel strange ripples coming out of nowhere. They weren't visible to their eyes, but they were there, the Old Kids' skins receiving sensations like rippling water brushing. It wasn't the air at all, feeling too different. There was some kind of force happening, they weren't sure, but they did feel like there was a _change _somewhere in the Digiworld, a _change _of life, a _change _of sensation. There was something wrong with the world right now, could be, but there was no sensation of wrongness or danger in the ripples.

The Digiworld was changing. 

Each Old Kid had his/her own sensation and experience in the elements of Nature. Mimi was the first to feel the change, feeling the very essence of the Digiworld changing. She said that the world's essence seemed bright and colorful, like neon electricity, the essence as waves, billowing outward from its core. Now the waves were lessening and weakening until Mimi could only see the tips of the waves just above the ground. Also, she mentioned that she saw the leaves of flora were turning colors. Not like autumn, in which the leaves turned colors. They were turning into the color of black. Not the charred, burned black, but polished black, like the leaves were carved straight from obsidian and yet remained as real leaves. The leaves were first tipped black and Mimi didn't notice it at first, but slowly, the blackness began to spread over the leaves, didn't touch the other parts of flora, just the leaves, until black leaves silently swayed in the breezes. Mimi didn't like it at all, feeling nothing of the essence from the black leaves.

Soon, one by one, the Old Kids began to get wrong sensations in Nature. Kimika mentioned that she saw faint auroras sparkling in the sky, even in the board sunlight, even when no one else can see them, budging and 'dancing'. Also, she felt like that everything became fuzzy. She knew that it wasn't her eyes at all, but just knowing that the surroundings seemed messed-up, like they were watered down and faded. Taichi didn't understand why was that he felt heat decreasing from the sun and around him. The heat wasn't cooled down at all, just fading away until Taichi felt a strange lukewarm feeling, strange warmth that didn't feel warm. Empty warmth.

Yamato seemed tenser and it was because he heard more voices of the decreased, now disturbing him with wails and whispers of woe. The spirits seemed to refuse to go away from his demands, insisting to wander around him, their old hands touching him, their unheard voices filling his head. He didn't go insane, but remained troubled. He said that it was the first time the spirits acted odder than before, and he didn't know how to reassure them. Maybe they seemed afraid about the Final Battle, but when he asked them about that, the spirits never answered. He often had to quiet their voices by humming a tune or playing his harmonica, music the only way to calm the spirits down.

Jyou began to see odd mists coming in from nowhere, drifting around his legs, colored strange blue-white, and they didn't feel _wet_. He received no sensation of wetness, and that puzzled him greatly. Frankie felt the same as Taichi. He can feel coldness even in heat, and even so, he felt coldness fading away until he felt lukewarm, feeling empty in the odd warmth. The winds seemed dead to Sora, blowing just like real winds, but didn't feel alive, like breaths of the dead. Koushiro's ability to sense electricity in living bodies was lost. He no longer felt life in anything, couldn't feel energy at all.

And oddly, the New Kids felt nothing of this, puzzled at their Protectors' uneasiness of the changes in elements. Not even the Digimon could feel the changes, except the Fate Digimon, who also felt the ripples and saw the black leaves, although they didn't sense the other changes the Old Kids had felt. Is the world really changing? If so, what for? Maybe it was because of the Final Battle, but it was like the world seemed to know it. The Old Kids didn't really like the changes, beginning to take caution against the coming Final Battle, wondering what will happen.

***

Sanimon recalled only one time that she had eaten a meal with the Digidestined and Digimon, and it was when she foolishly obeyed Metalseadramon's demands and nearly killed the Master before the Saint destroyed her. Sanimon shuddered at the pain and oblivion she had experienced, but the vow she held as a Guardian brought her back, thankfully. She felt humble and was more than willing to serve any Digidestined, especially Hikari, which she had given great respect for the girl. She vowed not to hurt anything, vowed to aid the Digidestined whenever they need her, even though there was not much that she had except for the backgrounds she had of them. She thought that she would be always looked upon with caution, just because she followed one of the Dark Masters. She accepted the punishment, knew of the outcome of her disobedience to her duty. She knew she will be an outcast among the Guardians, as well. She also thought that the older Digidestined would cast her some distrusting gazes and give her the cold shoulder.

That's why it was a surprise to her that all the Digidestined were acting friendly to her like they knew her for years. They weren't acting fake at all. No, they had so much loyalty, friendship and trust in each other that they didn't see any reason why they should still distrust her. Sure, there was the light caution in some of the eyes, mainly in Yamato's, but once Hikari displayed her newfound trust in her, they began to radiate amazing friendship toward her that she felt awed under them. They even invited her to sit at one of the two long tables in the dining room, merrily chatting about the adventures of both the Digiworld and Earth. Sitting in between of Gomamon and Hikari, Sanimon watched in warm gladness, eating a piece of meat pie, as the kids and Digimon around her laughed, yelled, and muttered. The voices were overwhelming to her, the words mingled into each other, but strangely, she could almost hear the harmony in the voices, showing that they were meant for each other, meant to remain friends for life. She felt the same for Prophetmon and she missed him already.

Vesamon, despite Takeru's and even Sora's terrible teases about his funny stew, actually cooked marvelous meals. The meals weren't the same to what the Digidestined used to forge. The meals were cultural from Earth, meals from the Digidestined's homes, Japan and America. There were sushi, halibut dishes, fruit muffins, meat pies, several other meals, along with lemonade, milk, and soda pop that the kids were astonished to find present. Vesamon just grinned shrewdly when asked about how he knew about Earth meals and muttered that everybody had to question a chef. Vesamon wasn't eating here; he took some dishes and went to eat with Koushiro and Ruigumon alone. Black Wargreymon had joined them. The Fate Digimon were sitting on the floor, away for the tables, their sizes too great for they to properly eat at the tables, but enjoyed chatting, as well.

Sanimon finished her meat pie and just began to nibble on grapes when she felt Taichi's eyes on her. He was sitting across from her and she was surprised to see him quiet and not involved in the conversation. He already had, but now he was looking questioningly at her, as if he wanted to say something. When Sanimon met his gaze, Taichi smiled and leaned forward, his voice clearly heard to her under the mixed voices.

"Is it okay if I ask you a question?"

Sanimon allowed a slight smile on her lips and nodded.

"How much do you know about Daematermon?"

Her body stiffened and it wasn't because of the name of the Daemon Mother. It was the firmness and authority in the Master's voice. Surprisingly, no one seemed to hear him, keeping on talking, while the gazes of the Master and the Guardian of the Digidestined remained on each other. Taichi didn't look troubled or serious. Just curious with the faintest hint of determination. Sanimon allowed a small sigh out, leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and voiced, "I wish you don't have to ask this during a lull, Master."

Taichi shrugged knowingly. "Yet, I need to know about her." He gazed around his friends, even though they weren't paying attention. "We all need to know."

"You don't know much about her?" she was perplexed.                  

"Well, there are several details about her, but there are too many holes in between."

"So . . . you need me to fill in the holes to make this clear."

"Yes, Daematermon's history, how she came to be like that."

Sanimon quieted, watching the persuasion on his face, and then pushed away her plate. She then enfolded her hands, her wide sleeves seeming to drape over them. She can tell him as much as she knew from the knowledge she inherited as a Guardian, but . . . someone had asked her, almost ordered her not to reveal any information based on what she was going to tell Taichi. It wasn't a demand. It was a plea. Her heart had softened and she agreed to secure the knowledge away from anybody. But he didn't demand to keep everything she knew a secret, just his identity. 

Sanimon slowly nodded and met Taichi's gaze. "I only can tell what I can because I was vowed not to reveal any specific information unless he allowed me."

She saw the light disappointment in the pale tan eyes, but then it was replaced with understanding. "He? Who is he?"

"I can't tell you his real name, but I can tell what his Heart-Name was. It's Tears."

"Tears? Why was he called that way?" said another curious voice. Sanimon nearly jumped in surprise as Miyako joined them, sitting beside Taichi. For a moment, she was astonished to see the same authority, the same leadership in Taichi and Miyako as she had seen in this Tears person. Miyako didn't have the bold determination Taichi had, but there was certainty and willingness in her face that stated she wasn't going to be left behind in the conversation and felt that she had the right to listen in. Taichi gave the lavender-haired girl an admiring grin, and then turned back to Sanimon, waiting for her answer.

The red-robed Digimon shook her head. "I can't tell you why. You ask him." She tightened her lips, showing that she couldn't tell anymore about him.

The boy nodded in understanding, and she wondered what had happened to the reckless, risk-loving boy she met. Of course, the adventures had changed the Digidestined, but sometimes, she was nostalgic. He continued, "Go ahead, Sanimon."

She cast him a thankful smile and spoke, "The identity of the Daemon Mother might be a shock to you, or perhaps, it will not. Daematermon was once a Digimon Guardian of a Digidestined."

Miyako's jaw dropped in astonishment and shook her head in bewilderment as Taichi frowned in displeasure. "A Destined Digimon?" he said. "Whose Digidestined?"

Sanimon held up her hands. "Let me finish and I will answer questions. Daematermon wasn't once who she is now. She was Wisimon, a Rookie, a rare ghost Digimon, who was chosen to guard one of the five Digidestined. Those five Digidestined came here before you, called as the Fallen Children because they failed to defeat Daematermon. You see, Wisimon was the only Digimon who couldn't digivolve. Her Digidestined was the only one who didn't have a Golden Digivice. The Golden Digivices were very ancient and we believed that they were made from a source that we don't know of. Maybe the Unmons made them. Your former Digivices were designed after them."

"If Wisimon couldn't digivolve, how did she get to the Mega Stage?" Taichi demanded.

"No one really knows how. One source said that Wisimon got so angry that she couldn't digivolve to help fight along with her other Digimon fellows, so . . .  her rage forced her to wrap-digivolve into Daematermon. Others said she had help." She shrugged. "We don't really know." 

"How come that Daematermon was called the First Evil?" Miyako asked.

"Before her, there was no ultimate evil existing in the Digiworld. Oh, we did have serious battles and wars, but we never had a Villain Digimon, a Digimon who wanted to reign over the world or wanted to destroy it. Daematermon was the first, and so we called her the First Evil and also the Final Evil because there is a prophecy that she will return and the Fallen Children must come to finish the war."

"Told by Prophetmon, right?" Taichi said, eying her carefully. Sanimon expressed nothing, simply nodded. Inwardly, she again felt the anxiety and eeriness she got when she last talked with Prophetmon. She worried deeply for him. The way he spoke of his future, the future he thought that he will meet death scared her. She only hoped that Prophetmon was not doing anything foolish right now that might lead to his death.

Miyako glanced to Taichi, and then asked, "What were the other Fallen Children's Heart-Names?" Smart girl, not pushing the Digimon to find about the real names. Sanimon was glad.

She tried to forget about the anxiety and answered, "Tears were one of them, and the others' names were Crystal, Smoke, Chime, and Mask. Mask was Daematermon's Digidestined," she added after a thought, then grimaced apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I can't tell any more. You might want to ask an older Digimon who might know of them. Azulongmon could know."

Taichi seemed to ponder over something as Miyako continued, "Or Vesamon?"

"He might."

Miyako tilted her head, and then turned to Taichi. "What about Gennai, Tai? Maybe he knows, too." 

Sanimon opened her mouth to respond, then shut it. She would answer, but Miyako didn't ask. Taichi noticed it, though, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Sanimon said nothing, easily meeting his gaze, until Taichi grunted, smiled, and turned to Miyako, changing the subject. Sanimon felt like that the conversation toward her was finished, they having the information they needed. Still, she could see in Taichi's face that he knew that she was holding something back. He knew better than to compel her to reveal more knowledge. She had reasons. She always had reasons, but sometimes, it was so bothersome that she couldn't tell what she wanted to. She wanted to help! She was a Guardian and she was commanded to help the Digidestined whenever they needed her. Curse Tears . . . Made her not to tell. But then Tears had his own reasons and she will not go to betray her oath.

Sanimon departed the table and went outside in the small square in the center of the Villa. She took a seat on one of the benches and took a look at the plants around the fountains. Black leaves. It happened before, Tears had told her, although she already knew. It wasn't surprising to her because the world was changing. It was preparing itself for the Final Battle. It _knew_. She wondered if the Final Battle was won to the kids, will the world be completely changed or remain the same? If not, what will happen to her? What will happen to her friends, her home, and everything? It will be terrifying. Even the idea of the Final Battle being lost was dreadful. 

_By the Digi, _she thought, _Prophetmon is right. If he can't see the future after the Final Battle, then there might be no future . . ._

_Then what are we fighting for?_

***

Dasalmon rested in her favorite spot up on a branch that reached over the Friends of the Stones, allowing her to see all the stones and pillars in her tiny vision. The Friends of the Stones was peacefully resting among the bushes and tall grasses; she had moved them from the snow-covered glade in the far north down to the warmer climate. The tops of the four pillars were easily seen from above the grasses, but Dasalmon wasn't worried. They won't be seen for miles, for scattered trees and rocks hid them. The pillars would just look like any other tall rocks.

Dasalmon was pleased; not one Digimon knew about the Friends of the Stones and she preferred to keep that a secret. The stones were supposed to keep the weak balance of Nature that resided in the more powerful Data, and if anybody would attempt to destroy them, both the destroyers and the balance would be annihilated as well. The area around the Friends of the Stones was sheltered, preventing anybody to bring violence in. So far, the stones were safe and Dasalmon was glad.

Dasalmon was playfully braiding strands of her white-blonde waist-long hair when she noticed something different in the stones. Looking down, a faint orange light met her masked eyes. One of the pillars, marked with the symbol of Courage and named the Fire Pillar, was pulsating with the orange light, like slow heartbeats of a sleeper.

" . . . Master?" Dasalmon mentioned, quickly looking up and around to see if the Master had came, but it wasn't right. Like the other Guardians, Dasalmon was given a gift to know who was coming long before they arrive. She just knew, and she knew that no one was coming directly for the Friends of the Stones or for her.

Puzzled, Dasalmon spread wide her white butterfly wings and fluttered down to the pillar. She placed a tiny hand on the pulsating stone and knew that it was something else. But what? She didn't recognize it. She wondered what was going on here, needed to know.

As if answering her thoughts, a brief shadow soared above her, darkening the orange light for an instant. She quickly looked up and saw a human-shaped dark figure flying in the sky, heading northwest. She had a sudden urge to follow it, and she did so, calling on the Friends of the Stones to follow it. The Friends of the Stones never stayed in one place too long, moving around to stay hidden. Dasalmon remained in the shelter, the stones swiftly passing the trees into a wide meadow, heading for the distant jungle.                                  

Now that the trees were gone, the visibility was clear, and Dasalmon noticed that the figure was a human, looking like a male one, his skin black and greasy, wearing red and black clothing. _'A flying human?' _Dasalmon thought, then shook her head. '_No, he must be Vampdevimon . . .' _She just _knew _that. She remembered the two DNA Digimon, Arukenimon and Mummymon that she had sometimes seen. It was very odd and eerie that such a Digimon could exist with Human DNA as its blood. She frowned as she watched the flying human-Digimon. _'If it is him, then what is he doing?'_

Vampdevimon flew swiftly, like a shooting red-and-black bullet, but the Friends of the Stones had no problems to lose him; its speed allowing them to move from the spot to a far area in a blink. From the meadow, into the jungle, they followed him, carefully to avoid any Jungle Village, river, or obstacle in the way. Dasalmon mentally stretched the shelter's top reaching up to the tops of the trees, and there, Dasalmon was able to see where the Vampire was going. In the distance, she saw a single mountain peak stabbing upward from under the jungle, standing proudly, its top open and hissing grey smoke. She knew what it was.

_'Blaze Mountain . . .' _Dasalmon recalled, and then gasped as the Fire Pillar pulsated brighter and faster, as if it was full of fear. She knew why. _'The Master's Shield!'_ Why was the Shield fearful? She then noticed that Vampdevimon has slowed down, floating near the top. In his hand, a swirling ball of black fire spun, flames flaring outward, lined with red light. Vampdevimon stared down to Blaze Mountain, seeming to find something that he was looking for, and grinned darkly. In swift motions, he powerfully hurled the fire ball right into the top.

"No!" Dasalmon yelled, finally comprehending of Vampdevimon's intent.

The volcano seemed to belch as it silently received the fire ball, but soon, she heard a horrible sound, like groaning of the ground around it. Bit by bit, bright orange goo that had to be lava, spitted from the open mouth. The mountain seemed to swell with force, the groaning and trembling getting louder until they were like thunders. Then Blaze Mountain exploded. First, a sound wave thundered across the jungle, flattening the nearby trees and deafening Dasalmon. Then lava hurled out from the top and surged down the sides like rivers of fire, simply swallowing the trees or set them on fire. Black-grey ashes fumed, filling the sky, darkening the sun. Red-hot rocks were flung like by slingshots, plummeting down like meteorites.

The shelter around the Friends of the stones was strong enough to protect from any disaster, and so Dasalmon watched in horror as lava silently flowed past the Friends of the Stones, the shelter forming an island in the middle of the fire river. Dasalmon felt the unbearable heat from the lava, sizzling and scorching. Rocks bounced off the shelter and ashes easily veiled the surface, darkening her vision. Then Dasalmon shuddered with gasps and tears as the sky was again filled with colorful dust balls, digital pixels that were the remains of the unfortunate Digimon trapped in the path of destruction.

She didn't know how long it lasted, only feeling like too long, hearing the groaning, and seeing the horrible fire, feeling the scorching heat. Finally, the thunders lessened, quieted, the lavas slowing down, cooling into ugly dark grey tar, the ashes finally misting down from the sky. Dasalmon heard faint chuckling from Vampdevimon and he was gone, flying back south. Dasalmon and the Friends of the Stones didn't move, she staring around in shock. 

The fire mountain was nothing but a pile of steaming rocks, its height less than half of the former Blaze Mountain, smoke fuming through cracks. Around it, the trees were still there, but bare and charred, laying outward on the ground where the lava had pushed them down, like burned corpses. No living thing survived here. Nothing lived here. The black landscape spread for miles, the thin yellow line at the horizon stating that the jungle was still standing, but in flames. Dasalmon slowly shook her head in disbelief, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to accept the destruction.

Looking down to the Fire Pillar, she noticed that it was broken, dead. The other stones were the same grey color, but they looked alive, standing strongly. The Fire Pillar had its color faded into a dead grey, almost ready to crumble at the spot. The orange light was gone.

_'How could it be possible that he knows where the Fire Shield is . . .' _Dasalmon thought to her as she sadly touched the pillar, noticing the dust coming on her fingers from the pillar. Why? Why did Vampdevimon do that? How could he know? Blinking away tears, Dasalmon then looked at the other stones, not yet pulsating, but it was possible that Vampdevimon was searching for the other Shields . . .

_'I must warn them. Before he destroys them all.'_ Dasalmon nodded to herself and commanded the Friends of the Stones to leave the destroyed area to find the Digidestined. Slowly, but steadily, the stones and the Fairy Digimon were on their way.

***

Taichi leaned back in his porch chair, watching with some delight as his ward and the Teacher combated. It wasn't necessary, but Daisuke, knowing that he and Iori were the only Armor Children with swords, asked him if he would like to test each other with swordplay. Iori, at first, thought it wasn't that honorable, but then his Kendo teachings taught him that it was honorable to test his abilities, bettering the skills. Iori and Daisuke planned not to reveal their practices, thought that some of the kids might disapprove fighting, but the others found it fun and enjoying watching them in combat, curious to see which one was better, the entertainment helping keep the troubles off their minds.

Today, only Taichi and Agumon got the chance to watch the combat alone. Iori and Daisuke delighted in combating a lot, laughing and teasing as their blades met. Daisuke had the advantages of size and strength to better Iori, but the years of training and speed helped Iori reflect off the advantages. Daisuke was using one blade this time, the fiery blade bright against the black katana, as the boys circled each other on the lawn behind the Villa, performing with sharp and awesome moves.

Agumon sat on the steps, looking slightly puzzled, but pleased, as he watched the swordplay. Turning around, he looked at Taichi, questioning, "Do you humans really fight with swords?"

Taichi smiled. "Not anymore, but we did in the past." He watched the slashing swords and recalled of a time when he had his own sword, battling with a Dark Digimon, along with Yamato, who had his night sword as well . . . When he took a good look at Daisuke's swords one time, he thought that they looked much alike to his and Yamato's swords, the colors in the blades, except the shaped hilts and no symbols of Courage and Friendship etched on the blades. Still, if they were his and Yamato's swords, Taichi would be glad that they were in the right hands of his ward.

He watched the flash reflecting off the orange blade, the black katana reflecting none, the flash seeming bright and like fire -

_A fierce line, burning with the orange light, burst across his mind's eye. Like a slash cut deeply in his heart, bleeding and agonizing._

Taichi suddenly recoiled against the surges of pain pulsating in his chest. His mind blackened, filling with nothing but agony. The pain . . . the fire in his chest. With his heartbeats, the pain kept on thumping, pulling him into blackness. Against his shrinking vision, the orange light flared as his fiery aura suddenly burst from his skin, brighter than before and almost angry. He barely heard Agumon gasping with similar pain as he collapsed onto the floor.

Then he heard his name being called as hands came on him, cool and painful, withdrawing from the heat from the aura. Agumon's face came in his vision, his emerald human eyes wide with fear and agony. "Tai!" Can you . . ."

Taichi heard nothing, but the pulsating pain in his ears, in his chest. The fire . . . it was horrible . . .

"Ta . . . Davi . . . help . . ."

He was pulled into the agonized blackness that finally removed the pain and left him at peace.

***

Kimika couldn't sleep. She was a light sleeper, so it wasn't unusual for her to wake at the middle of the night, couldn't sleep perhaps because of noises. It wasn't true this time. She couldn't sleep because there was the eerie feeling again. The eerie feeling that came from the darkness. It was like a warning she got from the odd holes on her left wrist. A powerful warning, for it warned her of the darkness coming or made her sick if she was close enough to feel the awful foul heartbeat of the living blackness. She sat up, careful not to wake Hikari, who was nestled next to her. The large room was the girls' bedroom, and so all the girls and womons, except Cleo and Ruigumon, slept on the floor, safe in warm blankets and pillows. She listened to the quiet breathing and her mind drifted to the afternoon when her best friend collapsed into unconsciousness. 

It was a scary moment. She was in the kitchen, talking with Iyumon and Gatomon when they heard Iori's frantic yelling. Iori _never _screamed like that, and Kimika's heart leaped, wondering what the matter was. Swiftly, she ran out to the porch and was horrified to find Taichi laying there, his aura just fading, with Agumon weeping and Daisuke trying to wake him. Iori then told her that Taichi all of a sudden fell down, his aura blazing with heat. Kimika checked and noticed that Taichi's face was pale and full of agony. Somehow, it reminded her of one time when Taichi nearly died form the burns caused by Phyrimon. Kimika ordered Iori to find Jyou and helped Daisuke to carry Taichi to the couch inside the living room. His body was feverish, but Taichi didn't wake at all, just laying there, lifeless.                                                               

Jyou tried to wake him, but to no success. Agumon was worried to death, didn't understand why he was feeling agony, and didn't know where the pain came from. Jyou, Iyumon, and Kimika helped cooling down Taichi's fever, the older kids and Digimon helping out, as the younger kids and Digimon watched on in anxiety. Frankie was very helpful, using his ice power to keep the fever down. Taichi soon woke, weary and pale. He seemed to be puzzled, but then said that something inside him was broken, receiving pain from it somewhere. He remained awake long enough to go into the boys' bedroom before he slept in peace, the pain finally gone.

It was the fifth day when it happened, the fifth day since the arrival to the Destiny Island.

Kimika slipped from the bed, stepped over the girls as she arrived to the door. She was thinking about visiting Taichi to make sure he was doing fine, but then he had Frankie, Jyou, Yamato, and Koushiro (whenever he left Cleo's side) to watch over him. She then wondered if she could see Cleo. She didn't know what else to do, couldn't sleep because of the eerie feeling. Something was happening. As she paused at the door, she felt something wet on her left wrist. She had her gloves off during the slumber, and she, not yet looking, touched her wrist. Coolness and stickiness met her fingers, and her heart thumped in fright. She suddenly hoped that her wrist wasn't bleeding.

She carefully glanced down anxiously. Even in the darkness, the blood seeping from the tiny holes had an inner light, colors silver-white, like molten silver.

She bit on the cry of despair coming on her lips and tried to ignore the seeping, as she hurried out in the hallway. The door was in the far end that led to the outside. She received a faint air of coldness and wondered what was happening outside. There were no windows in the hallway and she didn't get to look through the bedroom window. She knew what to do. She needed to acknowledge Jyou and Koushiro about her wounds. Calling on a sliver of her power, she created a tiny ball of faint yellow light. The ball floated beside her, giving out just enough light to see a few feet ahead. She didn't need light to see her path in the darkness, but the light ball somewhat gave her comfort.

She didn't even move as she then heard a startled gasp from far ahead and peered in the darkness. Koushiro stepped in the small lightened area, looking mildly surprised and concerned. He looked like he was recently awake and she noticed that there was white flakes on his head and shoulders. Snowflakes . . . ?

He gave her a light smile and said, "You surprised me, Moon. I thought you can see in the dark, unlike me."

She can, but she chose not to. The wounds worried her. She spoke faintly, "Spark . . . did your wounds bleed?"

Koushiro's face became haunted and he nodded. He had stringed sleeves tied to his forearms and he untied the strings of the left sleeves, pulled it up to his upper arms. On his wrist, she could see the vivid violet blood in the dim light.

She grimaced and asked, "What about Dew?"

He retied the strings; he disliked the sight of his blood, as well, and responded, "He asked me to get you." He glanced to the light with disapproval. "Extinguish the light, please. We can't have them seeing us."

Kimika timidly put out the light ball, leaving them in the darkness. "Sorry."

He couldn't see well in the darkness, his eyes not adjusted yet, but he stood close enough and knew where she stood. He reached to touch on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, too." She shook her head, forgetting that Koushiro can't see in the dark and then held on his arm. She felt that she needed a human touch, something solid to hold on in the empty darkness. She held on his arm tightly and felt his other hand also holding on her arm. He yearned for a human touch, too. " . . . I'm frightened, Spark."

"You're not alone," he whispered.

Together, they went outside. Kimika now knew where the coldness came from. It was snowing!  The sky was thick with dark clouds, the silver moon barely seen. The snow was falling heavily, but not like a blizzard, the snowflakes silently drifting to form a white blanket over the lawn. She wondered if it was Frankie's doing, and then shook her head. Frankie may like to play pranks, but not like this. It was something else . . .  It happened before, when the older Digidestined were trapped. First, the climate was warm and nice, and then now it was snowing all of a sudden. _Too bad we didn't bring our cloaks Vesamon made,_ she faintly smiled.

Koushiro led her down the path, marked by his footprints to the Villa. It was dark, but she saw the kitchen windows were faintly lightened. Jyou probably was there. They went there and slowly walked toward Jyou as he muttered. Kimika's heart clenched as she saw what Jyou was doing. He was standing by the sink, the water running on his left wrist. She could see a trickle of pitch-black blood seeping from the wrist, cleansed off, and Jyou shook his head in despair.

"It won't stop bleeding . . ." The shadows cast by the light leaped on his face, making him look grim and cold. He sighed and looked up to them as if it was the first time he saw them. He then pointed toward a pile of white linen strips beside the sink. "Come here; wrap these around your wrists. We can't let them know about this."                                        

Koushiro was already washing and drying his wrist as Kimika watched Jyou finishing wrapping the strips around his wrist. It almost scared her that the calm, sometimes hypochondriac Jyou was suddenly grim and bitter in his troubles. He almost looked morose, with the blue-streaked black hair, dusky eyes, and the fair skin underneath his dark clothes, along with the bitter scowl on his face. She waited until Koushiro finished washing his wrist to wash her wrist. She watched Jyou helping tying the strips around Koushiro's wrist, leaning against the counter beside her.

"What do you feel?" she asked over her shoulder, trying to forget the darkness that came over Jyou.

Jyou glanced up to her and there was weariness, pushing the scowl away. He sighed and spoke clearly, "This time, it's different. I feel that the battle . . . is not ours to fight." He finished tying and shook his head. "I feel like this whole thing isn't our fight." 

Kimika silently nodded, then focused on her wrist, absently observing as the silver blood tarnished and watered down from the running water. For some reason, she had the oddest feeling that the Final Battle Sanimon spoke of wasn't belonging to either the Old Kids or the New Kids. Someone else was supposed to fight it. She didn't understand why, but whenever she thought about the Final Battle, something inside her told her that it was not her fight, not the Digidestined' fight nor the Digimon's.

"Whose do you suppose the battle belongs to?" Koushiro questioned, taking a seat upon the opposite counter of the island in the center.

"The Fallen Children."                                         

Kimika lightly frowned with confusion. _'But the Fallen Children are not here anymore . . .'_  "Why do you think that?" She said, drying her wrist and wrapping it.

"I suspect that since the Fallen Children failed to defeat Daematermon, they might come back and try to stop her again." He then chuckled dryly, crossed his arms. "They are waiting too long."

Koushiro noticed the tone and tried to reassure, "Perhaps, it is fate. They had to wait until it's their time. I'm sure this time, they will come."

Jyou stared at him from lowered lids, then nodded, "Yeah . . . and we are the ones to keep Daematermon busy, hmm?"

Kimika worriedly looked back to him. The tone had grown into bitterness and almost snarling, but Jyou's face was now impassive as he avoided her gaze. Koushiro frowned. "You're being cynical, Dew."

"Well, I can't help it," Jyou snapped, suddenly looking anxious. "The whole thing is messed up. We are so lost. We have absolutely no idea what to do. Cleo is in a coma, our Digimon are helpless. Prophetmon is gone, and now this: Tai's collapse . . . Hell, yes, I'm cynical." At that, his dusky eyes closed, and his hands went to rub on his cheeks.

Kimika was silent, noticing that the calm aura that he often carried was gone. She really liked the composure in the aura, showing the faith and strength Jyou held within. Now that it was gone, Kimika felt heavy with emotions and almost frail. She gently rested a hand on his arm and voiced softly, "I can't feel your calm aura anymore . . ."

Jyou didn't look at her, but took another sigh, pulling the friends into concerned silence. Koushiro broke the silence, placing his chin on his hands, his black eyes drifting from Jyou to Kimika and back. "I know it's very hard . . ." He sighed much like Jyou, but the tone in his voice held encouragement. "I know it may sound melodramatic, but we need to keep hope. We can't just give up, not right now."

Kimika slowly nodded, then recalled something. "No . . . not just hope. Faith."

Koushiro looked mildly surprised, but nodded. "Faith, right."

From the corners of her vision, Kimika could see Jyou looking up to both of them, seemingly musing, but then slightly nodded, though doubtful. She didn't like the dire mood hanging, wanting to lighten it up, even though she knew that soon, they will have to face Daematermon. Even if the battle wasn't theirs. She gave the boys a positive smile, saying, "I know that we can do it. We are going to join the Final Battle to help out whoever is fighting and see to the end that we will win."

Koushiro was bobbing his head in agreement. "We will. I know we will, too."

Jyou darted his dark gaze to them and voiced that seemed almost prophetic and eerie, "Then let's hope that we all have the will to fight."

***

"Seeing her still bothers you, doesn't it?"

Gabumon, standing beside his partner, could see the deep concern behind the steel eyes.  He knew Yamato well; the boy always held protection and care for his friends, although sometimes, his eyes didn't show it. Yamato was sitting in the large patio near the maze garden, the patio supposed to be a resting place before and after striding the massive maze. The garden was easily seen from the front, the snow-covered green-brown hedges standing tall, but not completely covering the maze. He could faintly see the thin paths weaving with each other, the green hedges lightened with the early sun's dawn.

Gabumon was puzzled that he found Yamato awake and already at the patio, staring at the garden as if he was trying to see something. He was bothered like that ever since Cleo fell in the coma. Gabumon knew that Yamato promised her to help her whenever she needed his help, remembering the words he spoke of the strange ghost girl that hanged close to Cleo and carried the same looks. Also, Yamato mentioned that after Cleo slept, the ghost girl kept on appearing beside her, eyes on him as if she wanted to say something, but was too frightened to do so.  Yamato was frustrated; he couldn't speak with her without revealing her to everybody, especially Koushiro and Ruigumon. But as Yamato grew worried over Cleo and the ghost girl, Gabumon guessed that soon, he will have to do something.

Yamato sighed when Gabumon voiced, "What can you do?"

Yamato shook his head slowly, uncertain. "I know that if she tells me what's happening, and then everything would be clear . . ."

"Then ask her." The wolf boy knew he meant Nikhai.

"I can't, not when Cleo asked me to wait."

Gabumon slightly frowned; it was silly to keep a promise when that promise was clearly hurting someone. It wasn't really hurting Cleo, but Cleo was helpless and had no way to communicate and Yamato knew that. Yamato would usually break a promise if he knows it will help. Gabumon was surprised that the promise was strong enough to make him hesitate. "She is helpless, vulnerable. She might need you to help her now." As the Guardian sighed, Gabumon continued, "Matt, you told me that the girl shows up more often than before, looking at you as if she has something to tell. If she does have something to say, then listen. Isn't that is what you promised Cleo for . . . ? She might know what's the matter with Cleo, too."

Yamato glanced down to his Digimon and nodded. "I'm worried, yes . . . I promised Cleo that I will help when she needs me. Clearly, she does, now . . ."

Gabumon sprung from his seat beside him and curled his hand around one of the mantle's sleeves. "Then why are you waiting?"

Yamato merely looked back, didn't move from his seat yet. "What if I accidentally enter her mind and get trapped there?"

Gabumon let go of his hold and gazed with perplexity. "You did that to Kim before." Yamato did that, using his power to 'enter' the dreamland to find Kimika, who was sick and couldn't wake up. It was a new part of the power Yamato recently found out, but rarely used it.

"That's different. I know how her mind works." Yamato's eyes darkened. "I have no idea how Cleo thinks. She is telepathic and can block me. Nikhai is inside her mind and I couldn't enter when Cleo's mind is 'occupied'. And with her Mind Power, her mind would be in chaos . . ."

_Humans! Just worrying too much . . . _Gabumon crossed his arms, leaned forward and growled, "You worry too much!"

Yamato looked lightly surprised, then faintly smiled. "I worry like Joe?" Gabumon chuckled, but nodded rapidly that drew a brief laugh of bashfulness from the blonde. Yamato took a glance at the garden, and then abruptly stood up, already rushing down the stairs.

"What are you doing?" Gabumon said, hurrying after him, knowing the answer.

Yamato grinned over his shoulder. "I'm going to help Cleo."

Yamato knew that he had to do this already; he had been thinking about this for six days already, but he was uncertain if he should go ahead and help Cleo. Cleo may be in a coma, but maybe it was supposed to be. Maybe Cleo just needed to rest for some reason. But then . . . that ghost girl kept bothering him every time. She appeared to say something, but was either too scared or mute to respond. Yamato promised Cleo that he will let her work on this on her own and not to let anybody else know about the ghost. Two problems still stared in his eyes. He had no idea if Cleo was working on this right now and he couldn't risk talking with the ghost without having anybody know about her. He was frustrated for a time, but he realized that he just needed a shove to bend his promise, thanks to his partner.

Yamato's Power was barely used, the power linked with spirits, ghosts, the spiritual, clairvoyance, the mystic. He didn't really understand how was it possible to use the very opposite power of the digital abilities in the Digiworld, but then the Digiworld might have a different way to see the spiritual He rarely used the power as offense, but if he had to, he could simply use ghosts to cast fear or drain energy. Also, he could summon on pure energies 'left behind' by the ghosts to defend him. Also, his power gave him several abilities that were continuous; he didn't have to use his power to use the abilities. He can smell scents left by his friends, much like a wolf picking up scents. He received the ability of clairvoyance, which means seeing ghosts around and sometimes perceiving things that were not there, much like a peek in people's souls, seeing objects or people that were deeply linked, deeply cherished. He can also use his power to 'walk' the dreamland, time not existing, and enter other dreams. He never used it again after one time, respecting his friends' privacy.

So he was surprised to find that he was eager to use his power again. With Gabumon trailing along, Yamato hurried to the cottage, knowing what to do. He just nodded back at Black Wargreymon's curious look and entered. He was glad to see only Willis there. He didn't really want to face Koushiro or Ruigumon and have to explain the situation, knowing how worried they were. Willis was at Cleo's right side, quietly talking with her, maybe a story or something. His Digimon weren't there at all, maybe with the other Digimon. Willis looked up, not startled, but then frowned, saying, "Is something wrong?"

Yamato forgot that Willis can be perceptive and he held up a calming hand as he knelt by the other side. "It's alright, Willis."

The cobalt eyes, almost as grey as his, studied him and he quietly spoke, "Are you going to do something to her?" He silently nodded toward the sleeping Cleo.

Yamato looked at him sharply, muttering, "Can you read my mind?"

The Judge quietly shook his head, and then smiled. "I don't need to read your mind when it's obvious on your face."

Yamato reddened slightly, had let his impassive visage drop down to show his concern. He wasn't upset with himself for that. He was really concerned about Cleo. His grey-blue eyes quietly glanced at her face. She looked so peaceful, so innocent in her slumber. He wondered what she was dreaming. He didn't see the ghost girl this time, didn't see the wispy details of the girl beside the Watcher. It didn't mean that the ghost will not hear him. He took a deep inhale and peered up to Willis. "I need to talk with her." He didn't bother to mention that he needed to talk with Nikhai, not Cleo. Willis will find out soon.

Willis tilted his head. "How?"

"With his power, remember?" Gabumon whispered from his seat beside Willis, and Yamato was glad. Silence was a must when Yamato had to use his power. Gabumon placed a finger on his lips. "We need to be quiet." Willis didn't ask any more questions, wisely silent, watching curiously.

Cleo had her hands resting on her stomach, and Yamato gently took one of them in his hands. It was surprisingly cold and smaller than he thought. Touching was not necessary, but Yamato thought that Cleo might need a comforting and friendly touch, anyway. He still didn't see the ghost, but then spoke softly and clearly, hoping that she was hearing, "Nikhai? Can you hear me? I don't know if Cleo told you about me, but I was asked to help you. I will be waiting here until you are ready to tell me."

Moments passed, and still no ghost. Willis was perplexed as he glanced at Cleo's face, then whispered toward Gabumon, "Who's Nikhai?"

Gabumon shook his head, hushing him. Yamato gave him a silent glare and then was almost startled of the sudden wisps coming out from Cleo's body. Yamato didn't panic, recognized it as the transparent body of a ghost. The wisps came together and formed the tiny body of Nikhai. She was kneeling on the right end of the bed beside Cleo, near Yamato, leaning forward on her hands on the blanket, her face close. Nikhai was strangely not frightened, her cloudy eyes sharp and studying him thoroughly, her face stern as if she was searching for something worthy in him. Yamato sat still, letting her do whatever she wanted.

Nikhai reached out to touch Yamato's cheek; he had to resist from jerking back from the icy touch. He hated the feeling of the touch. Ghost touches were always cold and lifeless, feeling like either wisps of the arctic wind or wet and drowned flesh. The moment she touched him, her face softened into a visage of light concern, and she shifted her position until she was hugging her legs with her arms, pulled the knees up to her chin. She suddenly looked helpless and woeful. Her voice was soft. "Butterfly told me that you can help."

Yamato didn't bother to ask who was Butterfly. The name sounded obvious to fit the butterfly lover, Cleo. Yamato nodded. "Yes, I can help . . . Is Nikhai your real name?" He was curious because the name didn't sound like it came from Earth. It can't be her real name . . .

Nikhai shrugged. "I have many names. I like the name." Yamato kept quiet, puzzled at the answer, then listened as Nikhai added with a glance down to Cleo, "You want to know what's wrong with her."

He nodded with dawning eagerness. "Can you tell me?"

Nikhai hesitated, nervously looking across to Willis and Gabumon, who were silent, heavily puzzling, their curious eyes on Yamato. Yamato remembered Cleo saying that Nikhai was somewhat traumatized and was too scared to trust anybody. Yamato gave her a friendly grin, gesturing toward them, "It is okay. Wil - I mean Dream is a good friend of Butterfly. Gabumon is a friend, my partner."

She seemed relaxed at that, but looked disappointed as she again looked around the room. "Where is Spark? Butterfly wants him to be here with her."

Yamato kept silent, but nodded. He only hoped that if he has to enter Cleo's dream, Koushiro has to accept it.

Nikhai suddenly leaned forward, face almost lightening with childlike delight. "But I want you to come with me, Ghost. In my dream."

He was puzzled. "In your dream?"

"Butterfly is sad, but if you come with me, she will be happy."

Yamato was silent, uncertain. He was planning to enter Cleo's dream to make sure that she was alright, but still, he was worried. The dreamland, as he called it, had no meaning of time, not sensation of time passing. A minute in the dreamland would equal to a few days in the real world. It happened to him once, when he spent probably a minute in the dreamland, a day and a night passed before he woke. Of course, it was the first time . . . Perhaps, he had better control over his Power and the dreamwalking would be shorter in duration . . . He exhaled, considering the results. Nikhai seemed not to tell him of Cleo's condition, insisting him to enter her dream. If he went ahead and dreamwalk, his friends would get more worried over him, as well. He had to let his friends know about his plans . . . Especially Koushiro . . .

He met the gaze of the ghost girl and firmly voiced, "I can't stay long, understand?"

Nikhai mutely nodded and vanished into midair, accepting his words.

Again, he sighed and turned to Gabumon. "Gabumon, go get Izzy, please. I have something I need to explain to him."

Gabumon understood and he was gone. 

Willis glanced up to where Gabumon left and looked back to Yamato, who was entwining his hands in thoughts, staring into nowhere. "Matt, I don't quite understand what's going on here."

Yamato eyed him carefully, pondering if he must tell him about his plans and decided on it. Willis was Cleo's ward and he had the right to know. He cleared his throat. "This might sound complicated, but Cleo has a little girl with her, a ghost named Nikhai. She was a Digidestined and I think she might have a role to play in this."

The alabaster-haired Judge seemed bewildered, but not doubtful. His cobalt eyes glanced around, appearing to trying seeing the ghost, which Yamato knew that he couldn't. " . . . A Fallen Child?" Willis whispered carefully. When Yamato nodded in silence, he slightly widened his eyes at Cleo, and then asked, "What will you do?"

"I will have to dreamwalk. Hopefully, I will find out more about Nikhai and find why Cleo won't wake."

" . . . Do you need me?"

Yamato managed to give him a grateful smile, though faint. "Cleo will be pleased if you stay for her." Willis simply smiled back, the dark sea-green soul-scent from him heavy with serene protection. He almost felt safe in it. Then, a familiar scent met his nose, colored dark violet and brilliantly electric that reminded him of static, and lined with faint orange, hinting anxiety. Koushiro.  He looked up in time to see the redhead and Gabumon entering. Koushiro was fearful, his black eyes glancing down to his girlfriend before staring back to Yamato.                                             

"Matt, what's going on here?"

Yamato didn't remember a time when Koushiro truly showed his fear, usually being unruffled and emotionless. He was surprised to see the real fright in the black eyes, the eyes that can hide emotions easier than his own eyes. The fright was meant for Cleo, and yet, there was a protective worry he had for Yamato. Yamato felt crestfallen; he didn't really want to worry Koushiro any further, but if he will find out what's matter with Cleo, maybe the fact will lessen the redhead's worry. Yamato stood up and held up a hand before Koushiro would say anything more.

"Come here, Izzy," he beckoned as Koushiro arrived to his side, gazing up to him, impatiently waiting. Yamato's voice was soft but demanding Koushiro's attention, "Listen carefully. Cleo is haven't tell you anything about this. There is a ghost girl who follows Cleo. Her name is Nikhai and she used to be a Digidestined. My guess is that she was one of the Fallen Children."

He could see all the numerous questions Koushiro wanted to ask and Yamato continued speaking to silence him, "I'm going to talk with Nikhai, but there is a problem." He took an uncertain inhale. "In order to talk with here, I have to dreamwalk Cleo's dream." The Warder already fell silent, knowing the risks of dreamwalking and he cast an anxious gaze. "Yes, I know. I will have no awareness of how fast time will pass in the dreamland. My body will be vulnerable, helpless here, but it's the only way to find out. Now . . . the reason you and Willis are here is to keep Cleo and me comfortable, protected. Make us feel secure. Make sure no one disturbs us . . ."

His concern lessened when Koushiro and Willis nodded in understanding. Gabumon also responded with a confident smile, already knowing of his plans. 

Although, Koushiro was still anxious as he grasped firmly on Yamato's arm. He whispered, "Will . . . will it hurt her? And you?"

Yamato gave him a reassuringly smile. "I wouldn't do this if it will."

The black eyes peered affectionately down to Cleo, then back to Yamato with understanding concern. "Be careful."

"Of course, I will . . ." As Koushiro seated opposite from where Willis sat, Yamato moved to the door, glancing to Black Wargreymon, who was listening. "Black Wargreymon . . ."

Black Wargreymon simply nodded. "I will make sure no one is to enter until you finish."

It was a surprise that Black Wargreymon understood without having to know more of his plans. Yamato thanked him and closed the door. Again, the sight of Cleo crushed his heart, and the worry over dreamwalking increased. What if something wrong happens? Yamato would be in a coma like Cleo, and the rest would get worried to death. What if Cleo wasn't there to talk? What if, what if?

Gabumon touched his arm and that woke him back to the present. "I know you have to do it," the wolf voiced, "But are you ready?"

Yamato numbly shook his head, but he knew he had to do it. He promised Cleo, promised Nikhai . . . Sighing, Yamato took his position at Cleo's left, beside Koushiro, taking the cool hand in his hands. Before he would let his worry take over, he closed his eyes and used his mind's eye to see. In the blackness, he could see the dark blue swirls that were his Power, lined with white and grey, whirling and twisting. He commanded a small swirl to take form of a 'bridge', the blue lines reaching from his mind, through his arm to her hand, and contacted to her mind. 

At first, he saw nothing but the blue liens of his Power, but all of a sudden, a burst of a pale purple light exploded in his mind's eye. He gasped, as if losing his breath from underwater, then the strange feeling of falling down in the darkness. Falling down, down, feeling like he was falling forever, and then . . .

I finish my fall by crashing onto something, rough and hard, scratching on my skin. It is only a stone-built path, and I fell on it. This place . . . It is so real but for some reason, I know that it's not real, just a dream. Dreamt by . . . who? Cleo? I don't know . . . 

I'm somewhere in a place that looks vaguely familiar. Stone paths whirled through browned bushes and grasses, flowers withering and trees bare and stripped of bark. This is nothing of the dreamland I once remembered, but then not all the dreams are the same. There is a fence far in front, metal and barred, appearing to shelter the . . . gorgeous light there, the light that is all colors and swirling beautifully. I stare at it for a moment, and then remember what I'm supposed to do. I stand up and I get an eerie feeling from behind me. I look and I recoil from the _living _darkness. Darkness that . . . coils and surges as if it is alive. I saw that before, back at the Village where I and some of us first met Prophetmon and Cleo. The first time I saw the living darkness, it was nothing but a small slug, not even the length of my forearm, but this . . . It fills my sight, reaching to the ends of this place and beyond, blocking me from entering. Not that I want to enter it! It's so disgusting!

I quickly stand up and move away. I find that my clothing has changed from my mantle and pants back into my casual ones I wore in the real world, a black T-shirt and dark purple pants. I dust myself and walk down the stone path for a moment before I hear a voice calling out my name.

"Matt?" _Cleo!_ I don't call out, but pick up speed as I trot further. Around a corner, Cleo appears, astonished to see me. "Oh, Matt!" Her voice holds so much relief that I silently let her run in my arms and let her embrace me fiercely. She must be scared, being alone here. I awkwardly hold her, feeling her body shaking with silent cries, then, remembering how time is precious in the dreamland, I firmly grasp my hands on her shoulders and force her to look up to me.

"What's happened to you?! We are so worried to death!"

Cleo sniffles, wiping tears away. "I know . . ." Suddenly, she jerks herself out from my hold and glares back. "I know that! I've tried to contact you, trying to tell you that I couldn't wake up! I heard everything you said around me and I've tried too many times!" Cleo's hands shake as they brush through her ivory hair. "Didn't Nikhai tell you?"

"None of this," I frown, wondering how come Nikhai hasn't told me. "She said she wanted me to come here -"

"No!" Cleo is shaking her head so violently that I couldn't see her face clearly. She sounds panicked. "You can't stay here! You will be trapped here!"

"Stop it, Cleo!" I have to hold her close to me, telling her sharply to calm down. Eventually, she does so and she almost slackens before I let her go. I have a strange urge to rest a hand on her head as much as I often did to my little brother. I begin to see her as a little sister. My friendship grows for her, feeling the same protection I once had for Takeru toward her. When Cleo finally calms down, even stops sniffling, I again ask, "What's going on here, Cleo-chan?"

She looks mildly surprised at the added title to her name, but then responds quietly, "Nikhai kept me asleep her power."

"Her power . . ." Ah, I should've known! It's so blasted obvious. The Nature Children have their Powers of Nature. The Armor Children have their Armor Powers. Even Michael's group, the Reality Children, have their own powers! Obviously, since Nikhai was a Digidestined and probably a Fallen Child, she might have a power of her own. What kind of power? I ain't planning to find out; my concern is only for the Watcher.

Cleo is nodding to my astonished face. "She won't tell me what kind of power she has, but . . . she won't let me wake."

I stare at her with disbelief. "What? Why?"

"She's afraid that Daematermon will find you."

I again frown, muttering, "If you can hear me while you're asleep, then you should've known that Daematermon won't find you here. Destiny Island, as Prophetmon said, is unreachable, nearly inaccessible by any travel if one doesn't know the way. It's not way that -"

"Stop." The pale jade green eyes have flared into emerald fire. They silence me into astonishment as Cleo grabs on my wrist and particularly pulling me down the path. She leads me up to a kind of raised floor that is wide and looks much like a tiny theater, the supports crumbling and eroded. Cleo swings her arm fully around the place. "What do you see?"

I glance at her, but the persistence in her eyes tells me to follow her words. I carefully look around, puzzled, and then . . . it comes to me. This place is familiar! The garden near the Villa! I haven't entered the garden myself, but from a patio near it, I could see the paths, seeing and remembering the paths. The trees and flowers . . . they were alive and growing well, but here . . . The fence, I never seen it, but it must be buried deep underneath the overgrown flora. 

"You see?" Cleo is still glowering at me. "I've seen the same image in your mind, seen the similarity, and now I know why the garden on Destiny Island looks familiar. This place is from Nikhai's dream, the place where she and the other Fallen Children once fought Daematermon and lost."

This is . . . where the First Battle began? From Nikhai's dream? I want answers for my questions, but the words Cleo told unnerve me. I shake my head in doubt, "Then we are vulnerable, easy to be defeated once Daematermon finds out where we are . . . Why? Why did Prophetmon bring us here?"

"I don't know, but I know that Daematermon won't come to Destiny Island until the Final Battle comes." I turn to her with puzzlement and she continues, "Daematermon won't attack until I wake."

Suspicion comes in my mind. "Prophetmon told you."

"Nikhai told me."

I refuse to believe that. It's silly. A little girl has a kind of power that makes Cleo asleep? I don't think so. I can make her wake. My Power allows me to do so, the only power that can break through any block that any kind of power might set. Cleo will be pleased that she can wake up, thanks to me. I hold on her hand and try to persuade her to follow me. "Come on. I can wake you with my power." When Cleo stubbornly yanks out her hand, I frown back. "Come on!"

"I can't!" Cleo snaps. "I'm trapped, remember? Only Nikhai can wake me up."

"You're not trapped! It's only tricks playing on your mind."

Cleo's eyebrows rise. "Indeed?" Then _she _stomps down the floor and returns back to the swirling darkness, I following in annoyance. She can remind me sometimes of Sora and Mimi in unison, first weeping and hesitating to do something, and then the next moment, she gets in a fit and stamps her foot in disapproval when no one understands. But I've learned a lot from watching the girls' reactions. Their fits usually mean something. There must be something that I didn't get when Cleo tries to explain it. Just sometimes, girls just *like* to obscure information and expect us men to understand. 

Cleo walks up to the darkness; I don't miss the slight cringe she has in her body toward the darkness. There, she clenches a fist and pounds it on the darkness. I expect the fist to plunge through, but to my surprise, it bounces off, like the darkness is a solid wall. Cleo turns to me. "See?"

"But how?" I subconsciously let my hand to touch the darkness. It goes through, disappearing into the blackness, the iciness biting on my hand. I jerk it out and try to warm it. Cleo seems to know it, although there is a tinge of relief on her face.

"See, the only way for me to get out is through this darkness. The 'door' is in there, and it's closed. Nikhai did it." She glances to my hand. "You're free to go through. You're not trapped."

I stare at the darkness, and then back to Cleo. "You can't wake up? You only can wake if Nikhai lets you?" Cleo silently nods and I finally understand. "So you are safe after all. Daematermon won't come for you if you're asleep." I run my hands through my hair, bewildered at the reason Nikhai has to keep Cleo asleep, but at least, Cleo isn't hurt as we thought so. It's a great relief. But still, there is one thing I need to know. "Cleo, Now that I know why you are asleep, I need to know who Nikhai really is. I suspect that she was a Fallen Child."

"She was."

"Where is she?"

Cleo looks sheepish. "She won't talk to you. Too scared."

Like an annoyed wolf, I growl. "Not a very trusting one, huh?" I have nothing against getting scared, but it seems ridiculous that she recently talked to me, then fled in fright that I would bite her. Geez.

"I can tell you who she is," Cleo speaks. "I persuaded her and she finally remembered who she was. She lost most of her moments, all but the latest ones during the First Battle.

I arch my eyebrows. "That explains why she's so scared of her monster. Because Daematermon might look that scary to her." That little black-haired girl Digimon doesn't look scary, just . . . innocent and sad. Except when she tried to get Cleo's crest. Now she was scary, scary from the other villains we have faced. Eerily scary.

Cleo nods in agreement, probably thinking the same thing. "She remembers her names and her Digimon's name. She was called 'Lucy' by her brother and friends, and her monster was 'Wissy', as she called her. It's Wisimon."

"Sanimon told us."                      

Cleo doesn't look surprised, and perhaps it was because she can still hear us talking while she's asleep and already know about Sanimon and Vesamon visiting us. "And . . . she remembers a boy in her group, a boy named Eugene Weiss, her brother."

"Eugene Weiss?" Why does, all of a sudden, that name sound too familiar?

"That's all she told me. This Eugene is still alive, somewhere . . ." She then rests her hands on my arm, looking up with pleading. "You must go now, before our friends get worried over you. But one thing you need to do after you leave. Find Gennai."

I shake my head. "We don't know where he is."

"You must. He's involved . . . He must know what to do. He will know who are Eugene and Lucy."

"And if he doesn't?"

Cleo's jade eyes narrow, sparkling. "Oh, he does know. It's up to him to admit it. Go! Hurry!"

The persuading, the sharp tone in her voice stops me. There is something about her that she hasn't told me. My feet are locked on the ground, Cleo uselessly trying to pulling on my arm. I stare back until Cleo weakens under my gaze and sighs. Then, I say, "Cleo. You know something."

She avoids my gaze. "Yes, I know something, but . . . I'm not sure it's reliable."

"Tell me."          

". . . The Crest of Heart."

I nod, waiting.

"It's broken."

"Broken?"

"It's alive, but broken. The other half is missing."

I remember that the symbol of the Crest of Heart is a half of a heart, one side rugged as if it was tore apart from the other side. Does it mean something? Breaking apart? Ripped off in despair or in anger? But the crest looks complete, not broken in half. Only the symbol looks torn . . . "Cleo, how would you know?"

Cleo shivers. "Daematermon . . . she spoke the words in my mind . . . when . . ."

I understand and I won't ask her to tell me more. She told me what she can. I glance down to her, who is still shivering, remembering, and against my will, I draw her back in my arms, letting her calm down. My hand reaches up to stroke her hair before I stop myself._ I'm getting soft, _I think to myself, but at least, Cleo relaxes. _Be brave_, I think to her, knowing that she can read my mind. _Be brave for yourself and for us. _

"We will find out more about the crest and find Gennai," I say after Cleo leaves my hug. I inch closer to the darkness, trying to ignore the swirls and coils. "I promise."

"You don't need to promise. You have to do it. Our lives are at the sake." She waits for a moment, then whispers, "And . . . tells everybody, especially Izzy, that I'm okay."              

I give her a warm smile before I enter the darkness. I'm not falling this time, but somewhat flying upward, seeing the blue lines that is my bridge back to my body. As I place a foot on it, I get a sensation that I was running, my body suddenly exhausted and worn-out. A weight is sitting on my chest, making it difficult to breathe, but I think it's just-- 

Yamato sleepily opened his eyes. All he saw was dimness, softly lightened by candlelight, he guessed. He was laying on his back, comfortable and relaxed. His head was rested on a pillow; he was covered with a warm blanket. His body was heavy with exhaustion, not just physically tired, but mentally tired. He was puzzled at how did he get to sleep, and then he remembered. He closed his eyes and sighed, relieved that he got back, glad that he found the reasons of Cleo's condition.

"Oh, you are finally back!" he heard Koushiro's voice, and his eyes again opened to meet the bright black eyes of Koushiro. It was the first time in days that he saw Koushiro smiling with a grin of relief. He was sitting nearby, and Yamato looked around to see that he was laying right beside the bed, on the floor, Koushiro watching over them. Soon, the face of Willis and Gabumon came in his vision, grinning with gladness.

Yamato then noticed that his hand was still holding on Cleo's hand and he gently let it go. Taking another sigh, he whispered, "How long have I been out?"

"Just overnight. You return sooner than I expect," Koushiro answered.

Yamato simply smiled and closed his eyes. After a few beats later, he voiced, "Izzy?"

"Yeah?"

"Cleo is okay. She is just sleeping."

Already, slumber was there to bring him to sleep, but he could hear Koushiro sighing with gratefulness. Also, the redhead's smaller hand rested lightly on his shoulder, the last thing he remembered before he fell in slumber. For some reason, the touch comforted him, letting him know that he had kept his promise after all. That relieved him, and even in his slumber, the Guardian smiled.

***

Yamato slept for almost a day before he finally woke up, his body still not used to having his power being used to the fullest. But, regardless, Gabumon was glad that Yamato went ahead and found out about Cleo's condition and Nikhai's persona. Yamato was a bit disappointed that he couldn't get more information from Cleo than what he had, but Koushiro presumed with brightening determination that the information was just enough. With the bit of information Yamato had, already the Digidestined and Digimon burst in action.

Yamato mentioned that Nikhai was definitely a Fallen Child, much to everybody's surprise. Everything there became clearer, if not completely understood. After what Yamato and Sanimon told about Nikhai, it was obvious that Nikhai was Mask, the Digidestined of Daematermon, who was Wisimon. It was a puzzlement to why Nikhai was still here as a ghost and was pretty close to Cleo, scared and reluctant, even to talk to Yamato. There must be a reason, and they didn't see it yet. When Yamato suggested finding Gennai, for he might have answers, not everybody believed it. Some mentioned that Gennai wasn't seen ever since the defeat of Myalomyotismon and probably will not show up to the Digidestined at all. The Digidestined seemed hesitant to try and find Gennai, for it will waste time.

The Gijinka Digimon were the only ones who strongly determined to find Gennai. Included with the information about the Fallen Children, Gennai might know about the odd memories the Gijinka had gotten. They had questions to ask, and they didn't care if it will take too much time. They have to go, they said, can't just sit around and fidget. To their old Partners' surprise, the Gijinka Digimon didn't ask the Nature Children for help, but asked the Armor Children and Digimon instead. The Gijinka Digimon were physically weak, and they presumed that the Armor group will be helpful to act as guards for them during their search for Gennai.

The Nature Children seemed restless, as well, over Taichi's odd collapse. They wanted to know why it happened to him, wanted to know why they 'sensed' a wrongness happening in the world. So far, they had no lead to the mystery, but like the Digidestined they were, they weren't giving up that quick. They had decided to remain at Destiny Island while the Gijinka and Armor Children went ahead on their search, to watch over Cleo or until something wrong had happened to the world again.

Midst of all the actions happening, Gabumon had the similar thoughts on his minds as well as the rest did. 

_What role does Gennai have?_

***

He didn't recall seeing any kind of beauty he had seen in his past life. The darkness may look beautiful, but too plain. Flowers . . . he never had a fondness of flora, and still, he did admit that flowers are beautiful.

This . . . It had simple beauty that silenced him and warmed his heart.

Vampdevimon stood alone in a huge marsh, his nose wrinkling at the unpleasant odors and eerie sounds that dominated the bog. Marshes, bogs, and swamps were rarely beautiful. Maybe pretty to their residents, but never beautiful. The nasty smells that were acidic, bitter, and almost sickeningly sweet at the same. The bubbling sounds and the _sucking_ noises somewhere under the mucky surfaces of the ponds. Vampdevimon was just glad that he wasn't one of the Marsh Digimon who liked to live near or within; he just can't imagine tolerating the odors.

And yet . . . he did find it, the beauty that wasn't supposed to be here. A lone rose rested in the middle of the marsh, resting on something solid, he was sure, its petals deep red, almost as red as blood with the outlines pale pink. It was gigantic, too, its petals opened wide and curled outward like a throne. It seemed big enough for him to rest comfortably in. What a beauty he found in an ugly place . . .

Vampdevimon sighed, rubbing his chin in thought. "I suppose that I don't need to destroy it," he spoke to himself, hearing the faint echoes of his voice in the marsh. He eyed the rose, the Earth Shield. "One Shield is enough. The world is already weakened . . ." A light frown appeared on his face, not disappointing or upset, but simply dejectedly. The Son of the Final Evil, the Vampire Digimon, was disheartened. "My actions to destroy the Shields have no effect on the Final Battle. Nothing I will do affect the path of Fate."

He felt funny. Before, when he was first resurrected, he was filled with a bold certainty, not disturbed by doubt of failing or fear of oblivion. He thought he was so certain that he will make his mother happy, know that he was able to defeat the Digidestined. Even so, he was told that he *will* be defeated, no matter what and he fearlessly accepted it, simply shrugged, knowing that everything in the end die. 

But now . . . the certainty was lost. He could almost see in the future that he will lose his life. Why? Why should he? He felt like his business, his usefulness was finished, no longer needed. He still had the questions waiting to be answered and he could've gotten them if it wasn't for Black Wargreymon, who was mysteriously alive . . . In a way, Black Wargreymon and Vampdevimon were alike. They were resurrected and were given a purpose. The problem was . . . Black Wargreymon seemed to know his purpose. Vampdevimon didn't. He had lost it or had forgotten it. He didn't even know if he ever had one. So he should've decided to give up and accept his Fate. So why didn't he? There was a feeling in him, a yearning to find and understand his purpose, whatever it was. Why was he keeping urging to destroy the Shields if it wasn't his purpose? 

Maybe . . . maybe he just wanted to feel needed.

Vampdevimon scowled at himself, realized that these thoughts were of a weak Digimon and tried to erase them away, but the feeling of wanting remained. He eyed the rose, his heart both hardening and softening at the beauty. He was confused, but . . . Vampdevimon shook his head and sighed. He looked away, not bearing to see his hand glowing with a red-hinted black fire . . . 

***

_Wait . . .            _

Mimi paused in tending a flower bush beside the Villa and tilted her head.

_Somewhere . . . Why am I feeling sadness from someone? And even so, where did it come from?_

Mimi stood up and closed her eyes, feeling a new essence she hadn't experienced before. Her face turned to face southward, her power spreading to contact the very life of the Digiworld, feeling the essence of the world. She saw nothing but many colors in swirls, mingling and mixing and yet remaining in its own color. She deepened her use of the power, forcing the essences to part and let the strange essence come to her. 

A taint . . . stroked within a black and red essence . . . The essence took into a shape . . .

She knew. She knew who he - 

_A faint, wispy line, breathed with a jade green light, dashed across her mind's eyes. A thorn from a rose, smarting briefly and leaving a faint agony that was heavy._

Mimi softly gasped as her green aura appeared around her, swaying and almost quivering with fright. It came quickly, but the pain was still there, residing within her chest. She almost saw an image of rose in her mind's eye withering and fading into ugly grey-brown. She braced against a wall of the Villa for balance, gasping for breath. After a moment calming down, Mimi slid down to her seat, staring down to her hands, half-expecting to see her aura glowing once again.

She shook her head in puzzlement and almost sympathy. "Vampdevimon . . .?" Then she realized. "My Shield . . . It's gone."

To be continued!


	13. Time to Fight

_Author's Note (Man, I blame Dr. Pepper on that.)_

Dai-chan and I walk in, carrying a large box. They put it down as Demy enters, struggling with a large slingshot. He couldn't carry any further and he drops along with it to the ground, panting.

Dai picks it up and grins at the poor bat. "Tryin' to prove your wimpy strength?"

Demy glares hotly as he wobbly takes to the air. "Don't make me give you another beauty mark, you evil duplicate . . ."

"Stop, you two," I scold as Dai dodges under the Digimon's swipe. "It's bad enough having to listen to you bickering all the time off-screen. Save it for later."

"Yeah, well, you can't blame us," Demy says as he perches on my shoulder. "You haven't been working on the saga for a while. I'm surprised that you even got a flame - MFMH!"

Demy chokes on Dai's hat, in which I managed to jam it in his mouth.

"Hey! How dare you get that bat slobber on my hat!" Dai howls, stomping her foot. "Gimme! I feel naked ALREADY!"

"First, finish setting the slingshot and I will even clean your hat," I grin as Dai scowls back. 

"What will we do now, anyway?" Dai says as she neatly sets the slingshot. She then wrinkles her nose in disgust at the angry choking sounds Demy muffles in her hat. Demy is held in my hands, kept a distance to avoid his struggles to claw at my neck. 

"We will answer the reviews," I answer as I walk to the box.

"Oh, great!" Dai claps her hands in glee. "It's such a while since you answered the reviews of Friends of the Stones. Heh, I even thought you've lost your sense of humor - GCK!"

"Shut up, sister," I hiss as I then shove her hat in her mouth. 

Dai flashes me a white-hot glare. "Mf mf, mfph mfphmf, mf mf, mfh MOPH! Mfph mf mf Mmoph!"

"Sorry, I'm not fluent in the Muffled Language," I admit. "Now, can we begin this?"

"Mph mphmf mm mf mm." Dai then spits out her hat, putting it on despite her and the bat's spittle, and stands behind the slingshot. "Ready."

"Demy! Pillow!" I order. Demy digs in the box and gets out a pillow with the world first picture of Prophetmon on the pillowcase. I grin. "Kyer, here it is, for your screams." I then throw it to Dai. 

"Heads up!" Dai hollers as she slings the pillow right out the screen. It's unknown if Kyer gets it or not. I'm just an author. :)

"Demy! My dictionary!" I then duck as Demy badly aims the red-covered dictionary at me. "Nice throw, Batman." I pick up the dictionary and looks up the right page I need. I then tear it out.

Demy blinks in surprise. "Debbie? What're you doing, tearing out a page from your dictionary? You always have this murderous gaze in your eyes whenever I try doing that!"

I wave the page, grinning. "This is for another reviewer." Then it hits me. I scowl at my Digimon. "You tried to tear a page out of my dictionary?"

Demy tries to hide his growing sweatdrop from me. "No! Honestly!" He hurriedly throws it in the box, momentarily dampening the stuff inside. 

Not noticing the bat, I crumble the page into a ball and throw it to Dai, which, in turn, slings it out the screen. I say, "Hey, gerjomarty, if you hear me, here are the answers to your questions. The question with Nikhai's Heart Name of Mask is kinda obvious. Just look up the meaning of the word. It should give you an idea why she has it. And, no, Cleo is not trapped in the garden. She's trapped in her mind. The Garden is actually a memory from Nikhai, which, yes, the First Battle occurred." I grin. "I like you, gerjomarty, you're a brilliant guy. Also, the name Eugene should be obvious. Someone has a nickname out from that name."

Demy begins to poke me with one of his mauve talons. My warning glares have no effect on him. "Would you please stop poking me?!"

"Don't forgot the title you promised gerjomarty," Demy says as he waves a new paper in my face.

"Right." I dig in the box and gets out a small card that is a nice yellow color with green lines running across. There are black words stamped on the front. _'The Most Inquisitive Official Reviewer of FanFiction.Net'_ "Congrats, gerjomarty!" I make a cool Gambit-like throw with the card that flies prettily out the screen. 

Meanwhile, Dai appears to muse on one of the suggestions I made for the readers, then gasp in realization. "Eugene! You mean it's actually - " Her next word is cut off by the throw of my dictionary. The force knocks her out of her insane consciousness. 

Demy watches as she makes a nice slow collapse. You know, one of those cool anime falls? He then holds up a Eight sign for the flashy background. He turns to me and says, "You ARE watching too much Anime, Debbie."

"Rassum frassum . . . " I stick my tongue at him, then turn to the screen. "Hey, sailormoonshadow, I'm glad you like my fictions. I would give you a kiss, but I won't." I then order Demy, "Batman, give her a kiss for me."

"What?!" Demy gasps. "There is no way I will kiss anybody! I'm a Viral Digimon, come on! I'm *supposed* to be evil!"

"Demy, I would give her a kiss, but it will bring up some issues that I wish not to discuss. You're male, so it makes sense."

"So?!" He flashes his talons in what he hopes to be a threatening position.

"Kiss her!"

"Make me!"

Demy flees from my wrath as I chase after him out of the screen. After a moment, Dai wakes and clumsily sits up.

"Ow . . . That's it. No more Mountain Dew with added cinnamon for me." She notices that she is alone and feels a bit lonely. She goes to the box and checks if there is any more review. Sure enough, there is! Dai takes her time reading the review, having a bit of difficultly, despite that she was the altered personality of this author. *sighs* She then faces the screen.

"Victorious Light, you won't have to wait for any more. This is the next chapter of 'Children of the Digital'! I'm so excited because of this new discovery . . ." Grinning like the devil she is, Dai quietly hisses to you, "If you want a mysterious character, try Eugene. I found that he's really-"

My Japanese fan once again flies out and slaps her out of her insanity.

"No one CAN overcome the author!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, you can't make me kiss her!"

"It's only textual!"

The Disclaimer, yes? Yeah.

Children of the Digital

Chapter Thirteen: It will be the time to fight.

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

The small shrine was tended with affection.

She didn't know that there was a shrine in the Digiworld, didn't know that the Digimon would use a shrine to give thanks to spirits. She always thought that if there were spirits inhabiting the world, they would be Digimon, for she saw them as just digital spirits came to life by dreams and wishes of the humans. But maybe, then, there _were _spirits after all, watching over the Digimon. Everywhere in the Digiworld, there was something from the Real World that seemed out of place. These places were known as places of worship, places of respect, set by the ancient folk to hold spirits, fey folks, ghosts, such in respect.

Sand paintings and totems of Native American Indians, even though they were altered to fit the views of the Digimon. Circles of stones hidden somewhere in the jungles or inside buildings; for instance, the Friends of the Stones. Even these small Asian shrines.

She didn't know that Destiny Island had one. It already held several places that appeared to be from everywhere on the Real World. The Villa that was European, gigantic, and yet built with Japanese sliding doors, wide round roofs of African huts, and English furniture inside. A garden nearby that was wide and winding, full with wild Earth plants and flowers, so thick that no one could walk through without the danger of scratches and itches from thorns and twigs. A Zen Garden was set within the jungle. She was sure that there were more to see on the island.

When she found out about a shrine hidden under vines and dead leaves, it was from Daisuke.

She was very surprised to find that Daisuke was the one who found it. Standing amidst undergrowth and the towering jungle trees, Hikari watched as Daisuke silently cleaned the tiny well in the center of the altar before he added crystal clear water in it. He looked so calm, deep in though, which was rare for the wild boy. Maybe there was a side to him that she didn't see before. He sounded very blithe, even his eyes were bright when he told his friends that he found a neglected shrine somewhere in the jungle. To his slight disappointment, none of them sounded as enthusiastic as he was. Even the Buddhist Iori just smiled and nodded. 

Daisuke didn't look hurt at all; he just shrugged and departed. Hikari, although, followed after him, curious. And now that she watched him pulling the vines off the stones and brushed off leaves, she found herself growing fond of him. She saw a new light in his eyes. Pride burned in his tawny eyes, but not the kind of pride that spoke of arrogance and vanity. No, that pride had changed into a new pride, humble and honored, that he held highly. He was proud of himself, and only because he was befriended, respected, and loved. He kept these traits valuable than his own pride.

She almost could see the white cloak swaying from his shoulders (it only appeared when he summoned on his power), adding its magnificence to his self. He looked marvelous with his two swords, when he summoned on his power to show them off. With the white cloak, his bronze hair free from the goggles, and the shining nightblade and fireblade in his hands, he looked like a gallant knight. She thought he was handsome. And that, she was surprised to think that way. She knew she denied that he looked handsome, rather seen him as a reckless, gawky boy who was a clown . . .

And she liked it . . .

A new level of affection warmed in her chest, and Hikari shyly smiled. She was glad that she encouraged Gatomon to get Veemon out of the way. The Cat Digimon looked slightly appalled for having to be stuck with the cheeky blue beast, but she had fondness of him, and she didn't hesitate to take him away. Veemon was more than happy to do so; he was bored watching his Partner cleaning the bored shrine. 

She made sure she didn't hear any more rustling from the Digimon and eyed Daisuke. He didn't even notice that Veemon was gone; he was engrossed with the shrine. She was surprised to see that he was tending to a sacred place, but then once he had his mind set on something, it was impossible to shift it away. He showed devotion to it, nursing and rearranging the fallen stones back in place. She waited until Daisuke knelt in front of the shrine, despite the snow-lined grass. He didn't bow or anything else, just looking upward, his lips moving soundlessly. She wondered what he was praying for.

She lifted the hem of her pink robe and stepped into the sunlight. "_Ohayou_, Davis."

The tawny eyes actually brightened when he noticed her. A wide, friendly grin appeared on his face. "_Ohayou_, Kari!" He stood up and beckoned her closer. "How did you get here? Did you follow me?" His eyes twinkled with mischief.

Hikari had to make a smile; he would do anything to see her smile. "Well, I was thinking that I could pay thanks to the spirits of the Digiworld, if they exist. Mind if I join in?"

Suddenly, Daisuke was the knight, gently taking her hand and guiding her to her seat. She felt lightheaded, blushed at the gallantry. Where was that Daisuke hiding all the time? She sat on a bench she almost missed from underneath surrounding plants. Daisuke carefully brushed them aside and let her sit. Spreading her robe around her, she removed the cowl from her head, ignoring the mild bite from the coldness on her neck and ears. She then glanced up to the shrine. Already, she could feel wisps of invisible ghosts floating toward it, pleased to find it finally tended. She wondered if Yamato would see them with his second sight. She whispered, careful not to disturb whoever was present, "I didn't know you are asking for help from the spirits."

He gazed upon the shrine with deep respect. "I just thought we could use some help."

"What kind of help?"

"Courage, strength, and faith."

She smiled. "Those are good. We need them for the future."

"Yeah . . . I know that we can do this, but it won't hurt to ask for more help . . . So that's why I'm asking." He flung a hand upward. "Whoever that is listening up there."

She glanced upward and saw nothing, but grey clouds, framed by swaying colorful leaves. It wasn't snowing and not as freezing as yesterday. "Oh . . ." She gathered her robe around her to keep warm. "I've never seen that in you, being so eager to help out."

He leaned back on the headboard, resting his arms on the edge. "Maybe you're not looking hard enough." He meant to be teasing, but there was a stronger emotion underneath that she didn't miss.

Hikari shifted her gaze back to the shrine, heat suddenly coming in her cheeks. She was abruptly timid, not because of his presence, but because of that tone in his words. It could be her imagination, but she thought it was an ache, a wound made from betrayal. She was afraid to find out what - or who - caused it. She hoped it didn't apply to her. If it was so, she would be very shamed. She still felt guilty for what she had done to him before.

She almost jumped at the curious tone from him as he pointed down to her hands. "What's the rose for? Is it for Mimi?"

 The budding rose that was resting in her hand was really an Earth rose, grown in the maze garden. The pale yellow petals still had the sparkle of morning dew, frozen by the sudden coldness. Mimi once explained to her that Americans used yellow roses as a gesture of forgiveness. It seemed to suit the moment. She shook her head at his words; Mimi was still sore from the odd burst of energy that left her breathless, but not as sore as Taichi. "No, I have something that I would like to have help with."

"What is it?"

She fingered the petals, voiced quietly, "You said we need strength, faith, and courage. How about love?"

From the corners of her vision, Daisuke  gazed back with curiosity. "Why is that?"

"Maybe we need help to love each other." Her tan eyes met his gaze. "To strengthen our bonds."

He seemed to consider it, studying the rose. " Yeah, we need help for that. Love is much like loyalty and friendship, right?"

Close enough, and Hikari nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."

"It's a good idea," he grinned, gesturing toward the shrine. "Go ahead."

She didn't make a move. Not yet.  "Actually . . . I want to talk about that . . ." She didn't stop the timidity in her voice.

She felt his hand resting on her shoulder. She was very surprised to find it startlingly warm as Taichi's warmth. Yet, it was a different warmth. While Taichi's warmth was blazing, almost unbearable like the sun, Daisuke' s warmth was soft and mellow, like a candlelight, giving out just enough warmth to be comfortable and not too much to being smothered by the heat. She fought an urge to lean toward the warmth like a moth. Not yet. He needed to hear what she had to say.

She turned to flash a reassuring smile to a concerned Daisuke. "It's alright, Davis . . ." She brushed back few hair strands from the barrette, hoping that he didn't notice the redness in her cheeks. "I hope it's not that personal or silly . . . Do you remember your crush on me?"

The Brother blinked in astonishment, then gave out a surprised laugh that even amused Hikari. He didn't sound uneasy or sheepish or even bashful. Just surprised. "I'm surprised that you still remember it!"

Hikari relaxed slightly, smiling. "It's hard to forget your goofiness about it."

A deep blush came in his face and he almost giggled. "Eh, sorry about that."

She quickly shook her head. "No, it's okay."

He gave her one of his goofy grins that she had grown fond of, then curiosity smeared his face. "So . . .why do you ask?"

"I want to know . . ." she kept her eyes on the rose, her words coming our rapidly, "doyoustillhaveacrushonme?"

"What's it? I can't hear you."

Hikari blushed as his head came closer in order to hear her soft voice. She was nothing like Miyako and Mimi, who would fall over heels if a cute boy turned eyes on them.  She was surprised that she blushed. The spiky bronze hair was shiny and rough. She was curious of the texture, wondering if it felt like rugged rocks that the spikes appeared as or as smooth as real bronze metal. The color was so strange, the bronze color dark enough to be purple. It was unique and she often liked to gaze upon the hair.

The tawny eyes turned upward to her and she was awed at how golden they could be. Like everybody else, he had his own inner light shining through his eyes, altering the color to somewhat match the light. Takeru's eyes may be the color of the blue sky, but his inner light made his eyes like orbs of the sky itself, crystal clear and pale, pale azure to match a summer sky. Even her tan eyes appeared like brass, almost gold, as her DNA Partner once told her. In return, she told Miyako that even though that her eyes were colored pale tan-grey, the grey flecks almost sparkled like diamonds within mud. 

Daisuke's tawny eyes were the only eyes beside Sora's eyes that shone pure gold. Not molten golden like Sora, but solid gold, wild gold that wasn't yet polished and cut. He was like a body of metal with the bronze hair, tawny-golden eyes and the dark skin.

His lips pulled up to reveal white teeth and his voice pierced through her thoughts. "I think you are staring at me too long."

Hikari jolted and laughed to cover her blushing. "Ha, you dream!"

"You are blushing!" He again leaned more, his finger tickling at her cheek. She playfully slapped at his hand and pushed it aside. 

"It's the coldness. It's natural for my face to redden to protect from the cold, right?" She was so glad she thought that up that quick!

Daisuke pouted childishly, "If you say so." He then sat back, still grinning, "Well, what do you want to ask?"

Here it goes. She inhaled and said slowly, "Do you still have a crush on me?"

His face changed from the playful facade into a wistful expression, mixed with seriousness. He seemed to muse over something, then shook his head. "Not exactly."

Her heart almost flattened at the words. "Not exactly?"

He kept his eyes on the shrine, spoke honestly, "Well, yes, I do have a crush on you, but it's not the _'she's my girl, keep your dirty paws off her!'_ crush anymore." She hid a affectionate smile at that. "I just like you as a close, dear friend. I value your friendship and sweetness, and it's hard not to like you." The grin returned. "I realized that it was so silly of me to think that you are my girl when you clearly are independent and don't need me."

She tilted her head in question. "Why do you think that way?"

"You are experienced. You don't need me to protect you. You do it just fine. It's just silly that I have to protect you and impress you all the time. My crush was silly."

The sincerity in his voice somewhat dampened her spirit. Was her former attitude toward him really that bad and affected him? She didn't mean to, she wanted to tell him. She was just shy and would react just like any other girl.

She felt the tawny eyes on her and heard the sincere concern in the voice. "Kari?"

"I don't think it was silly that you like me," she whispered, lightly reddening. "I thought it was sweet."

Daisuke was surprisingly mellow as he shrugged. "If you thought so, you definitely didn't show it."

She felt a flinch jerking her limbs. There was the betrayed ache again. The way he used it affected her, too, feeling the soreness pulsing in her chest, her throat drying. "That's harsh, Davis."

His tawny eyes didn't remain golden, but darkened into tar-black that boiled and bubbled. "It did hurt me when you ignored me and 'played' with my head."

"I'm sorry . . ." Her head drooped.

"It's okay. I got over it. Why are you sorry for, anyway?'

She absentmindedly rubbed few dusky hair strands. "I'm sorry that I didn't notice that you like me at first."

He waved a hand, as if brushing away his harsh words, smiling with forgiveness. "What did I say? It's okay, really."

How could he be sounding like he didn't care? She knew him well enough to know that the little crush will not go away. He did bother to show his affection through ridiculous actions and amusing efforts to get her attention. And it worked. She wanted to tell him that. She took a look at the yellow rose and shook her head toward him. "No, it's not. At first, when you got that crush on me, I was flattered. I thought it was cute and funny and that you would do anything to impress me. But then . . ." She formed a soft smile. "I found that I like your attention. I didn't have as much attention as before."

He arched one of his eyebrows in puzzlement. He didn't hide the slight disdain in his tone. "What about TK? He gave you the same amount of attention as I did."

Jealousy. An ugly face to turn upon affection. She sighed. "Oh, Davis, how many times must I have to say this? TK is my best friend, that's all. We are friends because we lived through thick and thin and have many things in common. We are like one soul in two bodies, like twins, but I see him as a _friend_, nothing more."

"Nothing more?"

"Nothing more."

"Oh . . ." Daisuke looked a bit confused as he watched back, then to the shrine. "So why did you ask me about my crush, then?"

She felt more confident. "Because I want to tell you that I like it that you like me. In fact, I did have a crush on you."

He was certainly astonished, his eyes widening on her. He spoke, hesitantly, uncertain, "You did?"

Again, the reddening came in her cheeks, warming the skin. "Yeah . . . I was too shy to tell you . . ."

He blinked, making certain he heard it right. Apparently, he did and blushed underneath his tan skin. "It's a big surprise . . . I didn't know that at all." He abruptly leaned toward her, grinning playfully. "Well, do you still have a crush on me?"

She quietly smiled at the tawny eyes, glad that they were back to the admirable golden color. "Yes, I still do."

He felt silent, eyes wide. He slowly returned to his seat, the astounded gaze on her. Hikari held up the yellow rose and his gaze shifted to it. She said, "That's why I ask for help about loving each other because I don't know how to tell you that I still like you. I like you a lot."

His gaze turned back and it was full of gentle warmth. "Really?"

The bashfulness in his voice widened her smile. "Yes, I like you ever since we met. I thought you were cute and nice, though clumsy." She added an giggle. "And I still do, now. I admire your loyalty and determination. I like that. And I thought you are handsome and . . ." the deep red blush on the Brother's face almost matched his hair and that made her laugh. "You are blushing!"

"N-no! No, it's the coldness!" He quickly rubbed his cheeks, grinning bashfully. "The reaction and all, you know."

"Nice try, Dai-kun," she smirked. "It's my excuse."

He muttered, keeping his eyes on the rose instead of her. Then his face softened and, smiling, looked back. The warmth increased in his eyes. "I have to admit that . . . I like you back, too. I don't think my feelings for you will go away. You are a special girl and I'm very glad to have met you."

Hikari's heart hammered. It was a relief to tell him about her liking and a gladness to hear that he still liked her back. "Me, too . . ." She slid her fingers over his hand, feeling the soft warmth underneath the skin. She heard stammering from him and laughed at the comical face. "You are just like the old Davis!"

The comical appearance evaporated and a bold grin was back on his face. His hand tightened around her hand gently. "And what do you want the new Davis to do?"

Her tan eyes met his tawny eyes. "How about helping me putting the rose on the shrine? I would like it . . ."

His grin softened and he nodded. She thought any other moment would be not as perfect as this moment. Again, the knight took her hand, holding it high, and led her to the shrine. She was engulfed by his gentle warmth, welcoming it, wanting to keep it close forever. Standing side by side, his thick hand veiling over her small hand, they placed the yellow rose on the surface of the well. Ripples gently billowed from the rose, then the water stilled, disturbed only by a breeze pushing the rose around. The pale yellow color added a mellow air to the plain grey shrine, like the sun and the grey sky above. Again, as before, she felt gossamer fingers tickling her face and hands, as if the spirits were thanking her for the flower. 

His fingers entwined around her fingers and held them tight. He dipped his head closer to hers and whispered, "I think they heard us . . ."

Hikari just smiled and nodded. She was glad that the spirits or whoever that was listening helped out. She could do it on her own, but even the Digidestined needed a bit of help once in a while.

Then he again spoke, this time eagerness in the tone, "So . . . if you don't mind . . . If we ever finish the Final Battle, would you like to go out with me? For dinner?"

Same old Daisuke. "If you can flatter my brother into letting you take me, sure."

"Aw, I forgot about Tai!" A hopeful light shone on his face. "Would he . . .?"

She flashed a sly grin. "He will have to learn to live with it."

His laugh was booming and playful, but it also held deep passion and affection for her. "That's my girl!" He pulled her into his embrace and she basked in the wonderful warmth he radiated. She didn't correct his words this time. _'My girl.' _His girl. She wanted to be his girl. She wanted it ever since she met him. And she wanted him to be her knight. She had him, then. 

She couldn't ask for more.

***

_(Aiee. Another romance . . . and it's Daikari! Aiee again.)_

***

Of all the absurd things he had to said . . . 

Why did he do that to her? She hoped that she heard it wrong, maybe he was just delirious in his words, but more she thought of it, more true the words sounded. 

It was a mistake. It had to be.

Miyako was seated in a comfortable armchair that was set around a wide low table. The living room was enormous; it would comfortably fit an Ankylomon and a couple of Wargreymons inside. The decoration was varied and mixed culturally. On one side, several craved masks of an African design were hanged beside a French painting that was unrecognized by anybody. At the far side, beside an opened entrance, the fireplace was decorated with a plastic fish on a plaque that sang a drunk song that made Michael and Willis flinch and puzzled the rest. It was hurriedly removed and now picked flowers in vases rested on the shelf. There were a couple of chairs and a long sofa, extremely soft and fluffy.

Miyako didn't care about the sights of the strange, diverse Villa, kept on staring blankly through a wooden Russian doll sitting on the table. Around her, Takeru, Ken, and their Digimon patiently waited, resting on the sofa, chatting like nothing serious had happened. They already knew and they acted like it wasn't a big deal. She was surprised at the reaction, but didn't say anything else. It seemed useless to argue because they were really certain and sincere. Hawkmon was perched on one of the arms, kept silent, looking slightly nervous at his Partner. Serves him right. It was his fault to caw it to the rest.

She heard soft footsteps closing in, along with louder footsteps. Iori and Armadillomon slid open the porch doors and let Michael, Willis, and their Digimon to hurry inside before the coldness filled the room. Luckily, it wasn't snowing, no wind carrying snowflakes. But the coldness was so sudden and freezing that none of the Digidestined and Digimon were prepared for it. Only Frankie wasn't disturbed of the coldness, though there was a distracted look in his face, puzzled at the suddenness. Betamon, being an Ice Elemental Digimon, was unaffected. The Shelled Digimon, Vesamon and Armadillomon, were also unaffected, although they preferred to stay inside. The Fate Digimon were completely untouched by the coldness, walking through the snow and icy winds without flinching.

The boys and Digimon stomped their feet to keep the warmth moving through their bodies. "Where are the rest?" Iori asked.

"Kari and Gatomon went to find Daisuke and Veemon, must be at that shrine he talks about," Takeru responded. "They should be back soon."

The body of Willis came in her vision as he knelt by the other arm, crossing his arms on the cushion. His cobalt eyes were gentle and concerned. "You okay, Yolei?"

The Mistress mutely nodded, kept on staring.

Takeru was closest to her from the sofa's side and he gave her a patient, calm gaze. His voice held slight exasperation, however. "Why are you that quiet? You know it's true. You are meant to be our leader."

Leader. He used the words with ease and certainty that annoyed her. "So you say," she muttered, not bothering to hide the ire in her voice. "I want to know why. Why me? You are a better leader than I am."

The blonde quickly shook his head to deny the words. "No, no, I have my reasons."

Her dun eyes rolled upward. "What are your reasons?"

Takeru smirked, waving the left index finger, winking, "Be patient, Jewel. We will explain."

Miyako bit off more hot words, grunted instead, closing her eyes, burying herself deeper in the cushions.

She heard her Digimon speaking somewhat hesitantly, "Yolei, it will be okay."

He received a piercing tan-grey glare. "You know, it's your entire fault to tell them about me."

"Tai has a good reason," Hawkmon dared to argue.

"He was delirious!" Even though she again scolded herself for suspecting her leader delirious, she denied that Taichi wanted her to be the leader of the New Kids. What was he thinking? She expected a brief talk with him when she visited him, making sure he was doing okay from the unusual collapse that left him sore and weaker. His brief words surprised her, saying that he was looking forward to see how she worked as a leader. A leader?! She as the leader? Not happening. Why did he think that she would make a good leader? Why did he even pick her?

"He wasn't thinking straight, saying that to the wrong person," Miyako said aloud her thoughts.

The black-haired Friend quietly shook his head. "I don't think you were the wrong person." He sat upright, faintly smiling. "Even if Tai doesn't think so, we would still pick you, anyway. I would."

She eyed him for a moment with puzzlement and uncertainty. The bold conviction unnerved her. "I don't see the point . . ."

The boys and the Digimon simply watched back with grins that further worried her. Why were they looking at her like . . . like they wanted her to be the leader? They looked so certain and serious . . . that scared her. Did they know something about her that she hasn't notice yet? She was ready to demand the reasons why they would pick her as the leader, when a shuffling sound of the sliding door opening turned her to Daisuke, Hikari, and their Digimon entering. A look at the goggles resting on Daisuke's head and she was triumphed. Taichi said that the goggles had become an unofficial symbol of leadership, in which he passed it down to Daisuke. 

"Oh, Davis!" Miyako rushed to his side and grasped on his shoulders, forcing the surprised boy to look in her eyes. "Come on, explain to them why I ain't your leader!"

He blinked, taken back, then removed her hands off, but then held her hands. He appeared to be frowning in puzzlement. "Getting to the point, huh, _dachi_?"

Miyako yanked her hands away and stood there, arms akimbo. "I'm very astonished that you aren't mad that you didn't get the leadership role after all."

She was extremely disappointed that he responded with indifference. "I'm not. Why should I?"

She pointed toward his goggles, "Well, obviously, you are the leader here."

His hand went up to touch it and an understanding smile appeared. "Honestly, Jewel, have you seen me ordering you all around?" He then looked at his friends.

"No," Hikari responded simply.

"Not often," Ken mentioned after a brief thinking.

Takeru shrugged, "Not that I can think of."

Willis, Iori, and the Digimon just shook heads, grinning, as nearby, Michael laughed heartily.

"Gee, I really feel loved here, guys," Daisuke sniffled, although he was grinning, too.

"Ask a simple question . . ." Ken pointed out.

"Stop sounding like TK!" Daisuke chuckled as he gave his best friend a teasing bonk on his head.

"What a flatterer!" Takeru chirped in a playful tone that earned him another bonk.

Miyako nearly swelled with frustration. "You aren't being serious about this!" she growled. She couldn't help it; the very idea of being a leader befuddled her. Sure, she had dreamt of fame and attention from people, but being chosen by her own friends as their leader confused her. She didn't see why she should be one.

The laughs quieted, although, not completely. "Let me tell you why Davis is not the leader," Willis voiced, not moving from his seat next the chair. He rested his head on his crossed arms, eying her with something that appeared to be fond recognition. "Yes, he was 'leading' us when I first met you guys, but eventually, I noticed you took up the role and helped us."

"It doesn't mean anything!" the Mistress mumbled, disregarding sudden memories that could correct his answer. "Davis is loyal."

Daisuke stood up and leaned on the back of the sofa, gazing with calm knowing. "I may have the Crest of Loyalty, but it doesn't mean that I'm supposed to have the role. I simply hold loyalty for all of us." He shrugged. "No, I don't want the leadership."

Gritting her teeth, Miyako couldn't think of more arguments to defend her denial of taking the leadership. Her gaze shifted to Michael, held his gaze, looking at him expectantly.

Michael, who was grinning the whole time as if he was amused, faded his grin and shook his head, holding his hands like a shield. "Oh, no, don't look at me. I'm already the leader of my group."

"Meaning you is qualified to have the role!"

The charming, chiseled face quietly frowned with disapproval. "Not this time." He didn't look like that he was disappointed of the leadership, but because of her.

She hurriedly looked away, didn't look at anybody else. She was at a loss. She still didn't get it. Why must she be the leader? Why can't Daisuke be one? Who cares if he was reckless and loudmouthed? He was a good leader once he learned his mistakes. Anybody can be a good leader. Anybody can be chosen to be the leader. Why in the blasted world did they pick her for?! She muttered, sitting down heavily in her chair, narrowly missing Terriermon and Lopmon from being crushed. She rubbed her cheeks, and then looked up as Iori stepped up to her.

He peered back with his eyebrows slightly crossed, his face stern as always, touched with concern. "What's the matter, Miya-sama?" She was never called that way and it surprised that her best friend suddenly chose this time to call her with great respect she didn't deserve. His emerald eyes darkened. "Why are you so anxious about the leadership?"

"I just don't understand why I must have to be the leader. It's not . . . me!"

Iori tilted his head a bit. "I do believe that you have leadership qualities."

"So do Davis, TK, and everybody else here!" she snapped. Iori didn't look hurt, but sighed, watching back. 

"Yolei." Then she heard an arm resting around her shoulders. Hikari. "Can I explain the reasons?" The pink-robed girl sat on where Hawkmon had perched and the touch somewhat calmed Miyako. Miyako tightened her lips, but forced herself to listen to what Hikari had to say. She just wanted to know the reasons. Those boys didn't help out.

Hikari sounded so confident and sagacious that Miyako felt silent, growing meek and astonished at the honesty. "Miya-sama, I know that you don't look forward to accept the leadership. Any of us would accept the leadership if it's given to us. We do have some leadership qualities to take up the role, yes, but the leader is not picked on what the qualities are. It's the faith and trust of the followers that picks the leader. Let me tell of the qualities that we have."

Her tan eyes turned over to the Brother and Miyako thought she saw strong affection in them. "Davis is loyal, the most devoted person and, with the leadership, he will certainly protect us and keep us safe with his life. He would not hesitate to fight whenever one of us is hurt. Right?"

Daisuke smiled and nodded.

"But . . . being loyal is not the only quality," Hikari continued. "It's clear that Davis is meant to be a protector, not a leader. He would rather protect than lead." She then looked to Michael. "Michael, yes, is the leader of his group and has great leadership skills, but right now, we do not ask him to be our leader. He needn't to be a leader twice and he prefers to have someone lead him instead.

"Ken could be a good leader, but . . . to be frank, he is just soft-hearted. He is an excellent helper and comforter, and he doesn't like to fight back." Hikari then smiled somewhat apologetically to Ken. The Friend simply grinned, not bothered by the words, he already knowing who he was. Hikari turned to Willis and Iori. "Wonderful Dream and Pebble, I'm glad we have their judgment and wisdom. They think ahead and think up plans to keep us prepared. They are thinkers, but not leaders.

"TK and I - of course, we could be leaders with our experiences, being older Digidestined." Her head shook in unison with Takeru's. "It doesn't matter, this time. We may know what to do, what to expect, but it doesn't mean we know everything. Now you, Miyako -" she patted on her shoulder. "I see you as a combination of our qualities. You are a protector, a helper, a guide, and you are certainly a natural leader, even though you aren't aware of that."

Impressive, she had to say, but it wasn't enough. Miyako needed to find more. "I don't understand. Why me?"

"Don't you notice that we are following you recently? You gave us orders and took the role with natural ease. As I said before, a leader is not picked for the skills, but from faith and trust. Tai is picked not because he is a natural leader, but he is the one who keeps encouraging us to move on. He carries courage for us. I pick you because I trust you. You carry purity, which means you are here to remind us that we need to be pure in heart and mind to face the darkness. I have faith in you and if you have doubt, I'm here to guide you."

"As will I," Takeru spoke up with a wink. "I will help you keeping hope for us. I wouldn't ask for a better person than you as my leader."

"Loyalty, to me means to keep courage in friendship. I have courage in you and I cherish you as a friend," Daisuke voiced with a wide grin.

Iori was nodding at the words, adding his, "You are my best friend and I know you more than you know yourself. I often see a leader in you, beneath that stubborn, hyperactive character." His face softened into a childlike, sweet smile. "You are my leader, Miya-sama."

The Judge chuckled, resting his hand on his cheek thoughtfully. "What can I say? They already told what I want to say, but there is one more thing. You are the Mistress, a woman of authority and respect. I will follow you."

The twilight eyes of Ken were on her as he spoke, "I will follow you to the ends of the worlds. That's my faith in you and my decision." The deep and gentle tenderness he held for her made her blush, but she gave back a quiet smile.

Michael was nodding his head, his ice-blue eyes almost bold in color and sparkling. "And also, a leader can recognize a leader." His grin deepened, uncovering a dimple in his left cheek. "Yolei, I see great expectations in you, but don't let us press you into being the perfect leader. Be yourself. We're here for you. Just do what you know you can do and you will be fine."

The ever strong-minded Mistress was silent, her spirit heavily humbled by the words her friends spoke. She saw nothing in their eyes but honest respect and fondness. Her dun eyes lowered, speechlessly, and she felt her Digimon touched on her arm, puzzled. 

"Yolei?" Hawkmon murmured.

"I think we overwhelmed her with our praises," Takeru said and she wasn't sure if he was humoring or concerned.

She shook her head, sincerely bewildered and meek. "No, you didn't . . ." She was surprised to find her cheeks wet with tears, and then she thought it wasn't that surprising. She was just astonished that her friends, the friends who had been 'chosen' to fight along her side and she along with them to protect a world they once never knew that existed, her own friends had expressed their feelings of her. "I never had this much . . . respect and trust . . . I always dream that I'm respected as a great woman and now . . ." She formed an amiable grin. "As I see that from you . . . I'm glad that I have great friends that see me as just Yolei."

Willis grinned up to her. "So you do accept the leadership."

Her cheeks again reddened. "It will take time getting used to . . ."

Hikari wrapped her arms around her shoulders, grinning. "Don't worry. We will help you, too."

"As will I!" Hawkmon cawed proudly as the other Digimon cheerfully agreed.

Miyako looked at each face of her friends and saw nothing but friendship and trust radiating. She smiled. "Thank you . . ."

"Come on, group hug!" Daisuke hollered.

Miyako only managed to cry out a strangled protest as the enthusiastic Daisuke, Takeru, Michael, Armadillomon, Veemon, and Patamon pounced on her, arms and laughs tickling, pinning her in the chair. The rest later joined in, and soon, the chair was a pile of arms, legs, and laughter.

"Help! I'm being smothered!" Miyako's voice squealed from somewhere beneath Daisuke.

"It's one of the tortures of leadership!" Takeru snickered, refusing to give in to his newfound leader.

Suddenly, Daisuke yelped and glared down. "Stop pinching me, Yolei!"

"Your leader wants you to get off her!" she ordered with a cackle.

As the rest continued their merriment, letting Miyako getting free from the tackles, she felt strong warmth inside her chest. She was prideful, and it wasn't because she was chosen as a leader. It was her friends. She was so proud that she had such wonderful friends, glad that she got the chance to become their friend, as well. She mentally promised to herself that she will serve them well. 

***       

Four years ago, the young Digidestined thought that they will never return to the Digiworld to relive their adventures and meet their partners that they had developed an unbreakable bond with. They were greatly saddened, of course, but they still had hoped that they might come back. If the Digiworld needs their help, they will answer its cry of help in a flash. They knew that they were chosen and every day, their hearts yearned for the wild travels and friendships they earned. Even so, they were patient, knowing that the Digiworld was at peace and didn't need their help by then.

A year later, they began to notice that there was something wrong with the Digiworld. It became weaker bit by bit, and the Digidestined got concerned. They attempted to return, but the ways into the Digiworld were closed, unable for them to pass. They knew that the Digiworld has been rebooted in order to gather lost data so it can be renewed once again. For some reason, the 'doors' between the worlds were gone, and their Digivices were useless to let them to enter. But then soon later, Gennai had opened a door on his own, requesting their presences immediately. The Digidestined, of course, did what they were told, and for several moments, as they arrived in the middle of a flower meadow, they were thrilled to see their partners back. 

After they settled down, sitting in a half-circle around Gennai, the oldster finally explained what happened. It wasn't just that the Digiworld was getting weak. The balance was broken. It had been since the Dark Masters and the battle with Apocalypmon. So much data were destroyed and even useless for the Digiworld to reboot that the world was losing its identity, losing its life. It needed a new balance, new data to fill in the holes between the written data so the Digiworld can become stronger. In order to do this, Gennai asked the Digidestined to give up all their crest powers to restore the balance.

The Digidestined still had their crests, dead and lifeless, because they already have the crest powers inside them. Gennai explained that if they can focus all their crest powers back in the crests, it was a possibility that the crests would become alive and send out their data in hopes of restoring. The only negative thing about it was that the Digimon would no longer digivolve to Ultimate. At first, the Digimon protested and hesitated against the idea, but they were quick to understand that it was necessary to keep the Digiworld alive. The Digidestined didn't take long, either, for they had learned that every positive opportunity always comes with a disadvantage. Gennai mentioned that they didn't need to give up all the crest powers, just enough to reactivate the crests.

And so, the Digidestined did, holding their crests in their hands, and focused all their energy, all the crest powers in the tiny crests. In their mind's eye, they began to see their crests changing shapes, shapes that appeared suitable to fit to their nature. They called them Shields, because it made sense that the Shields were meant to protect the Digiworld and keep the balance right. They knew that they must hide the crest-Shields so no evil power would seek and destroy them, and so they mused on places where they had treasured experiences that had impacts on their lives.  They were satisfied with their choices and so, they sent the crests away. 

The crests shot upward in the sky, where they glowed with colors for a minute, then shot in different directions toward their resting places. A moment later, the world was restored and everything was beautiful and full of life. Gennai was grateful and told the kids that he needed to depart for a brief time while the kids remained with the partners. A couple of hours later, he returned and left the kids instructions. The instructions were crucial and explained what to do if the Shields were found, weakened, or destroyed. He spoke about four Holy Beasts, four of the highly powerful Mega Digimon existing, who watched over the Digiworld with wisdom and power. The Holy Beasts were not seen, almost never around, believed partly as gods, and Gennai appeared to have a friendship with them! He had asked them to help protect the crests in addition in watching over the Shields and the Holy Beasts were willing to do so. The kids now knew what to do, know where to find them, and their names. Gennai told them only to find the Shields if they were in utter danger.

When Dasalmon finally showed up at Destiny Island with fright about witnessing the destruction of Blaze Mountain and told of what happened to the Fire Pillar, the Digidestined were now determined to go find the Shields. So far, the Shields of Fire and Earth were destroyed and Taichi and Mimi sincerely wanted to go out and heal their crests so the Shields can become stronger. The other kids were worried about their Shields, as well. The Shields appeared to be destroyed in order of the circle of the Friends of the Stones. Despite the fact that the Spirit Shield should've been destroyed because of its position in between the Fire and Earth Shields, the Kids believed that the Outer Shields were likely to be destroyed first. The Outer Shields, which held the elements of Fire, Earth, Water, and Air, were more powerful and easily to be seen, which the Inner Shields were extremely hard for anybody to see unless any of the Digidestined pointed it out.

The destruction seemed ridiculous to some of the kids because if this person was attempting to destroy all the Shields, he/she will not be able to find the Inner Shields. The Shields were linked to each other and were made so that if any of the Outer Shield were destroyed, the Inner Shields became more invisible. If all the four Shields were gone, the other four will remain but out of sight, out of hearing, even hidden from divine eyes. Only the Digidestined can find them.

At any rate, the Shields were being destroyed, and the Water Shield might be next. The Nature Children knew that they needed to go find the Holy Beasts and attempt to heal their crests. The only problem was that the Nature Children cannot bring any of their friends to the Holy Beasts. Azulongmon may be the only Holy Beast who was known among the Digidestined, but only the Old Kids knew where he lived and they can't take the rest to him. It was a good thing that the Gijinka Digimon decided to go out and search for Gennai, taking the Armor Children and Digimon with them for protection. The Old Kids can now safely and secretly go to the secret places and talk with the Holy Beasts about healing their crests. The other Digimon chose to stay at Destiny Island and watch over Cleo while work can be done.

Knowing about the determination in the kids and Digimon, the Fate Digimon decided to ignore their oaths not to muddle with Fate with their destiny-changing powers, and helped them out. Akemimon, being the computer genius, had worked on one of the ancient computers found in the office of the Villa and gathered data of the Digiports. He managed to form a Digiport that worked differently from the other Digiports. The Digiport can be opened with a Digivice and can connect to any computer in any region for ease of transportation. It will be greatly helpful with the traveling, knowing how little time left to use. 

Already, by the eleventh day since the arrival to Destiny Island, the Gijinka Digimon and the Armor Children and Digimon had departed for File Island in hopes to find clues in the search for Gennai. Ruigumon had left with them, glad to have something to do. The Nature Children remained at Destiny Island, still planning for the journeys to the Holy Beasts.

Finally, all the Digidestined and the Digimon had something to do beside sitting around and fidgeting. They felt better having a goal to work toward. They only hoped that their efforts would better their chances to defeat Daematermon, even if they still didn't know how. They just knew this: Vampdevimon and Daematermon needed to stop.

***

Raindrops filled the sky like a silvery curtain.

Mimi had to admit that the sight was surprising beautiful. It was a while since she could sit and watch the rain. She wasn't the kind who would dream and fantasize as she watched the rain, but the water kept reminding her of her boyfriend. She liked to imagine that whenever rain came, she liked to think that Jyou was thinking of her at the same time. The rainstorm recently arrived with a sudden downpour that startled all the Digidestined and Digimon, who had rushed in the Villa or the cabins to avoid the wetness.

Of course, Jyou wouldn't resist standing under the rain!

Mimi couldn't help it but glared at her boyfriend from under the sheltered patio. Some of her friends had joined her, but shook their heads in astonished amusement at how silly Good Old Joe can get and left her alone for the warmth of the Villa. Mimi would choose to leave Jyou alone, but for some reason, the sight of him standing in the middle of rain both fascinated and scared her.

It was so odd that the Jyou she knew, the accident-prone Jyou, who would jump out his skin at the sound of a lizard crawling on a rock, was truly changed into this calm, almost neutral Jyou. His dusky eyes were half-closed, as if was in bliss, his face upward, the rain drawing streams on his cheeks. His long hair was free and soaked, curling around his shoulders. He even didn't notice his wet clothing at all! Then he turned to grin at her and he'd _never _grinned like that to her before. It was almost sly and shrewd, as if he was thinking differently from the usual Jyou.

Mimi ignored the sudden shivers up her spine and crossed her arms, pouting. "Why won't you get out of here? You will get sick!"

Jyou chuckled and his grin softened. "Calm down, Petal. I'm Water incarnation. Water can't hurt me."

Mimi rolled her eyes in surprise, wondering how much he was truly changed. "You've grown bold, maybe daring."

Jyou's dusky eyes were suddenly soft, but firm, as he thought of something. His voice was low. "Maybe I'm . . ." His hand ran through his hair, his gaze shifting upward. "All my life, I was too afraid, too helpless. I panicked over everything that might hurt us in the smallest degree possible. Why can't I be bold? Why can't I be daring?"

Mimi smiled, leaning against a wooden column, resting her cheek on it. "Joe, I love you the way you re. You don't have to prove yourself. Just be yourself."

"Hmm, and who am I, Mimi?"

"What are you talking about?"

Jyou looked like a statue in the yard, his face chiseled and his body unmoving. Only his dusky eyes were piercing and held her gaze in place. "I can see that in your eyes and the others. I'm the one who are changed the most from my power."

The Guide sighed softly, understanding. It was true that Jyou was really changed that much. True, all the Old Kids were changed by their powers, but Jyou seemed to be a complete different person. No longer panicking, Jyou radiated calmness. No longer distracting, Jyou was seriously focused.  The Old Kids had mentioned that there were two Jyous now; the normal Jyou and the Reconciler. The Reconciler was rarely seen, but when he did show up, the kids would fall silent and listen fully to him. It seemed eerie to some. Mimi never liked it when the Reconciler was there. The cold calmness and impassivity unnerved her.

Jyou must seen the words in her eyes as he nodded, sighing. "I'm changed so much that I no longer know who I am. Am I the Reconciler, the one who is calm and controlled, or Good old Joe, who is everything the Reconciler isn't?"

"Oh, Joe . . ." Mimi murmured. "I know that the way you acts scares some of us, but I don't think you have to be someone else. Be yourself. Be their friend and helper, as you've always been." A tender smile came on her lips. "Be my Jyou."

Jyou looked back and grinned. The grin also showed his love. "Who is your Jyou?"

"The man who stole my heart."

Jyou whistled with affection as he moved closer. "You know, you're changed, too."

"What?" Mimi was curious, still smiling.

"You used to sugarcoat us to get your way -"

"That's not true!"

"And now you're telling the sincere truth."

Mimi tossed her honey tresses, smirking. "Anybody can tell the truth."

Jyou shook his head, waving a finger. "Not my Petal. She tells it so beautifully." He closed his fists under his chin, sighing dreamily. "I just love it."

"You are a terrible liar," Mimi muttered, but a blush came on her cheeks.

Jyou arched his eyebrows and continued, "And do you know how she shows her care for me? She would do anything for me, even dance with me in the rain." There was a playful twinkle in his eyes.

Mimi gazed back in faint puzzlement, and then squealed, trying to get away. "You wouldn't!" But Jyou moved fast, his wet hand grasping on her arm, and pulled her out into the rain. Mimi screamed with delight as the rain soaked her in a second, her hair going flat on her face. "You fiend!" But she couldn't stop laughing as Jyou began to frolic her around, his feet causing great splashes in puddles. Mimi was mirthful as she chased after him and joining in his goofy dances. That was the Jyou she missed, the Jyou she had lost her heart to. After several moments of playing, Jyou silently wrapped his arms around her and planted a kiss on her forehead, keeping her close. Mimi hugged him back, feeling completely contented, once again wondering how she ever fell for him and delighting at how lucky she was to have him. In the rain, the Reconciler and the Guide remained in their arms, and Mimi thought the moment would never go away.

Just then, she felt his body slightly stiffening and a faint groan escaping from his throat. Extremely worried, she looked up and blinked at the soft pale blue aura that was coming out from within his body. A dreadful thought appeared in her mind and she shook her head in disbelief. His Shield . . . it was destroyed . . .

"Joe?" Mimi voiced, looking up to his face. "Your Shield . . ."

Jyou weakly smiled back and sighed. "Don't worry, Petal. There's nothing I can do right now until we find the Holy Beasts." But she could see the hardness and anger just under his composure. He was angry.

Mimi was angry, too. _Why would Vampdevimon destroy the Shields for? Especially, when I feel sadness from him . . ._

***

Carefully balancing a tea tray, the Seer entered the cottage. Not surprisingly, her heart didn't sadden at the sight of Cleo simply because she now knew that the Watcher wasn't in a coma, but just sleeping. Her brown eyes gazed around. Koushiro was at the right side of the bed, sitting on a cushion, busily typing on his old laptop. She was astonished to see that he still had the laptop, didn't know that he carried it in his backpack. Of course, Koushiro won't be seen without his trusty Pineapple PC. He didn't even look up at her entrance. The other temporary resident, Sanimon, looked up to her from her seat on the window slit, her hood down to reveal her curly silver-grey hair. Strangely, Sanimon looked childlike when the hood was up, but the curly hair seemed to age her or perhaps made her look ageless.

Sanimon smiled at her. "Good afternoon, Seer."

Kimika beamed back and putted down the tray on the table in a corner. "Good afternoon." She then looked around. "Where is Ruigumon?"

Sanimon sighed and gestured toward outside with her head. "Somewhere . . . The poor thing is still upset."

Kimika didn't say anything, knowing that a few comforting words won't help Ruigumon that much. She glanced to Koushiro and felt suddenly nostalgic, remembering her old adventures when Koushiro silently typed at the keyboard, trying to decode the mysteries of the Digital World. She had a sudden vision of a younger Koushiro sitting with the yellow-and-white laptop on his knees and happily chattering in computer talk that she barely understood, but nevertheless, patiently listened and smiled whenever his eyes sparkled with bliss. She kinda missed the silent, composed Koushiro. 

She gestured to the tray, saying to Sanimon, "Help yourself with the tea." She didn't notice the knowing smile on the Guardian as the red-robed Digimon nodded.

She took a seat on another cushion and carefully, without startling him, looked over his shoulder. All she saw on the white screen was texts of digicode, filled from top to bottom and so complex that she stared at them in blank confusion. Then she noticed the odd excitement on his freckled face, an almost mad grin that she hadn't seen for days. She wondered what he was thinking about. She spoke softly, "What're you doing?"

After a moment of rapid typing, Koushiro stopped and turned to her with a wide grin. "Working on the riddles."

"Riddles? Oh, the riddles Prophetmon left us?"

Koushiro nodded. "After the shield discussion, I assume that the riddles might have something that might help us defeat Daematermon."

The excitement in his voice somewhat roused her. "You've solved them?"

"No, no, only decoded them." Kimika's spirit didn't slack, not when the excitement was still there. "They appear ambiguous, so I'm attempting to solve them. Bit luck there, but going nowhere." Then his grin widened. "And this's where you come in."

"Hmm?"

"You're the expert in solving riddles, right?"

She blinked in surprise, then flushed as she shook her head, "I don't know . . . I may enjoy solving riddles, but . . ."

His hand went on her hand and she was surprised to see the pleading and tenderness in the piercing black eyes. "You only can try . . . Time is running out."

She simply smiled, already knowing it. She knew that time was running out, and she personally pondered how much time left for the Digidestined to stop Vampdevimon and Daematermon from destroying the worlds. As she mused on this, she knew that she can do this, can try her best to solve the riddles. Her actions would be valuable in the shortage of time, perhaps even to help stop the Villains. She merely nodded and said, "I know it, Kou-kun . . . Go ahead and tell me the riddles."

The riddles had an interesting rhyme. They weren't rhymed in words, but in numbers. There were five separate sections, individual in each and yet linked to each other, and each section had five verses. Every verse seemed to have a profound meaning, have something to tell that she couldn't understand, couldn't grasp on the meaning immediately. She found herself drifting in her mind, vaguely listening to the voice of Koushiro as he recited the riddles, feeling the greyness coming around her, knowing that she had experienced this before, but couldn't recall it well. 

Then it happened. Flashes came past her eyes, and they came so sudden that Kimika blinked, thinking she was just daydreaming. But she saw them, as if she was watching a movie played in high speed, scenes flashing past with an instant of clearness and recognition before they came into blurs. She knew she had her eyes wide opened, but the way she was looking at the flashes, she felt like she was watching the movie _on _a window while she still could see other things through the window.

_A soft twinkle of an object. It is a sword, but not a sword. So colorful that it seems chiseled out from a rainbow. It spins in a circle, forming a pattern of the rainbow, as well, before it vanishes. _

_A feather drifts past. A kind of feather that might be aquiline, but might not. It is black and it looks like a raven's feather. _

_As it floats away, there is a flash of a soft, beautiful light that is colored a light purple. It looks so familiar. The light only blinks once before it's gone. Then . . . then . . . _

_Nothing . . . There is a sense of Nothingness, a sense of Oblivion . . . A sense of emptiness._

Her heart pained with dread, Kimika gasped, not knowing that her hands has impulsively grabbed on the redhead's arm and tightening their holds. Koushiro yelped in surprise and was trying to soothe her and trying to peel off her fingers from his arm at the same time. "Kim! What's the matter?!"

His voice jolted her out of the dreadful sensation and Kimika blandly looked at the worried face before glanced down. Removing her hands, she noticed that her hold had left red finger marks on the white skin. Koushiro rubbed it, trying to ease down the soreness. Kimika buried her head, rubbing her cheeks, not quite believing what she had seen. "I'm sorry, Izzy . . ."

"It's alright . . ." Koushiro waited until Kimika calmed and gently asked, "If it doesn't bother you . . ."

Kimika smiled and shook her head. "It's just sudden, that's all." Then her face changed into bewilderment as she recalled the flashes. "It's strange . . ."

"What's it?"

"When you . . .  spoke the riddles, I saw images . . ." Kimika again shook her head, wondering if they were just daydreams or hallucinations. Yet, the images looked real, were real enough. "It might sound odd, but I think I'm looking in the future . . ." _'Or in the past?'_

He looked thoughtful. "Well, it wouldn't surprise me. After all, you're the Seer."

She knew that she had an ability to see things when she touched an object, much like clairvoyance, often vague. Never like this . . . never so real, so lifelike that she _was _there, living the scenes she saw. "But it never happened to me before."

"Maybe it's another part of your power that you haven't discovered. What did you see, Kim?"

She paused for a moment, trying to recall the sudden images and spoke slowly, having to make sure that what she saw was what she said, "I saw a sword, but it doesn't look much like a normal sword . . . It's funny-shaped, and . . . and it's made of many colors. Like it's made of a rainbow. Then, for a short time, I saw a feather floating in front, black and a raven feather or of a black bird . . . Then a pale purple light. It just flashed once at me, and then it's gone. And . . ." She paused, uncertain of what she was feeling. She only remembered the odd and dreadful sense that forced all the life out of her, emptying her, hollowing her, making her nothing, a part of nothingness.

"What did you see?" Koushiro gently persuaded.

"I feel nothing . . . no emotions, no life, no death. Nothing. Oblivion. Emptiness." She knew it was different from what she experienced from her dark self. The Stranger may not use her emotions, but the emotions were still there, stirring somewhere inside the hollowness she was. She may be impassive, but impassive _was _an emotion. This sensation of nothing . . . it had nothing. 

He said nothing, carefully watching her face, then grimaced, speaking, "The end of the worlds?"

She felt a twang of dread in her chest and she tucked her fists under her chin in a reaction of worry. "Oh, I hope not." The images of Earth and the Digiworld gone, leaving nothing of their traces of life . . . She hoped not.

He quietly sighed, his fingers then typing at the keyboard. As she looked the screen, he was adding notes to the riddles, seeing the words of her descriptions of the images. "Are there more images, Kim?"

Kimika paused at a new idea and of course, she waited to make sure that the idea made sense and could be helpful. If this new ability did help her see in the future, maybe, just maybe, the verses that seemed linked to the sections and yet had their own meanings could give new images, images that might help . . . She then said, "I don't see more, but if you recite each riddle at a time, maybe I could see more specifically."

"Are you sure?" Surely, he was still worried about her sudden grasp on his poor arm.

She managed a confident smile and nodded. 

_'One to bear a heart, one to bear no heart,_

_Together, you shall heal._

_One to bear no blade, one to bear a blade,_

_Together, you shall harm._

_You alone decide the fate.'_

Blast it. Kimika frowned at herself, couldn't see any images as she listened to the riddle. She had heard it before when Koushiro first decoded the first riddle and reported it to the Old Kids. She recalled that she was a bit spooked at the words, wondering what did it mean, but as she knew of, she saw no images at all. "Nothing."

He raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, and then said, "Maybe you are trying too hard?"

She doubted it. She might see nothing, but she did feel something. There was a sensation that the riddle was meant for someone else to solve. Maybe she imagined it, but the sensation was still there. She only shrugged to him and gestured him to continue to the next riddle.

_'Divide not the Heart,_

_Lest you divide us.'_

_An image of a perfect-shaped heart floats in the sight. Then a new sound, the sound of something creaking. Bits fall off from the heart, spidery creaks spilt down the heart, splitting it in half. Then the broken heart crumbles into bits, and then fades out._

Kimika softly groaned as she experienced tiny needles of pain tearing inside her chest. The pain was light and brief, but that was all she was aware of, surprised at the false sensation that her heart was ripping apart. 

She felt his hand on her shoulder. "Kim?"

She didn't bother to reassure him; the pain must mean something. "I see a heart, which is breaking apart."

"A broken heart . . ." Koushiro's face again contorted in careful musing, the face she was used to see all the time. "The Crest of Heart."

Kimika considered it, then wasn't that certain of the image she saw looked like the Crest of Heart's symbol. It just looked like a normal heart. "It might mean more than just the crest . . . And when you said 'lest you divide us', my heart suddenly hurt. It feels like it is ripping apart . . ."

"How can you symbolize it?"

Once again . . . the sight of cracking through the heart, splitting into two . . . it did look a bit like the crest's symbol. The symbol was a half-heart, so . . . "Something happened to the Crest of Heart," Kimika spoke her thoughts.

The Warder nodded. "It could be . . . I did find it broken, and I mended it with my blood . . ." She secretly smiled, knowing the story of how Koushiro met Cleo. She never knew that the computer whiz can be romantic. However, her smile faded at his serious face as he continued. "Also, Daematermon did say that the crest isn't Cleo's but to her child . . . Lucy."

"And this Lucy was her Digidestined, Mask, which is the girl, Nikhai all along," Kimika recited the words she and the others already knew, a few pieces of the huge puzzle finally fitted together. The only pieces that made sense! There were pieces missing, pieces that didn't have sides to match the others, and even so, no one have seen the big picture at all, and so it was already frustrating. Kimika and Koushiro just moved around the new pieces in hopes that they would find more pieces that might fit in.

"And Nikhai is a younger version of Cleo . . ." Koushiro concluded, not thinking of something else.

Kimika sighed, resting her chin in her hands. "I just don't get it. Why is Cleo carrying the crest? What for?"

"Gennai told her to find it."

"Only so she can heal herself. She doesn't need it anymore."

"Well, she's now a Digidestined, so it makes sense that she is carrying the crest, still."

"What for? The crest is not hers."

Koushiro sighed, shaking his head. "I won't repeat the same words. Doing that won't solve anything, so we need to continue. Hopefully, we will find something."

"Hopefully," Kimika muttered.

_'Lose not the Faith,_

_Lest you lose us._

_You alone decide the fate.'_

_Five faces floating in the black background. They come and go so fast that the details are unclear. The details that are seen already state that three of the faces are boys and the other two are girls. The ages are difficult to tell, although they look close to each other in years. One of the girl faces is slightly familiar and it's only because the face is often seen everyday. Except for her eyes, which sparkle bright blue . . ._

"Five kids . . . Nikhai is there, or Cleo, I'm not sure, but I think it's really Nikhai because of the eyes. Obviously, Cleo doesn't have blue eyes. The other kids are three boys and a girl."

Koushiro remained silent, then said, "The Fallen Children . . . Mask, Chime, Crystal, Smoke, and Tears . . ." Kimika simply nodded in agreement. If the vaguely familiar girl looked like Cleo, then she must be Nikhai, and then, the other four must be the Fallen Children. It had to be. "What were they doing?"

"Just looking at me with a sense of hopelessness." 

He glanced to one of the lines. "_'Lose not the faith'_ . . . The Fallen Children must have lost their faith and therefore, they lost the battle against Daematermon."

"Right . . . so it's our responsibility to keep the faith to fight her."

The Warder paused in his typing and turned to eye her with dislike. "Doesn't it strike to you as intriguing? That we are cleaning up their mess?"

Kimika cast him a sharp frown. "Izzy . . ."

He waved a hand. "I apologize. It was inappropriate for me to suspect it, but do you comprehend the concept?"

". . . Yes . . . but maybe they do want to help, too. To make up their mistakes."

"How? Four of them are dead."

She shook her head. "No, only one is dead. That's Nikhai."

"Even so, three of them couldn't remember, lost their memories, thanks to the First Battle."

"This leaves one."

Koushiro shook his head, impressed, and Kimika smiled. She was good at having determination. He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtfully at the screen. "Well, I hope he is still willing to help out."

_'One that dies not, you must not end,'_

_A face appears in the background, a head that is partly covered with flowing black hair, a blindfold tied around the eyes, and a black scarf wraps around the neck and mouth. A girl . . ._

"Daematermon." When Koushiro glanced at her with bewilderment, Kimika only shrugged. "That's all I saw."

_'One that lives not, you must not end,'_

_Another face, a face of Cleo with strikingly electric blue eyes . . ._

"Nikhai . . ."

_'Only with one that severs destiny,'_

_The rainbow-colored sword that is not a sword._

"The sword!"

_'The gem within, you must end._

_You alone decide the fate.'_

_A stone of some kind . . .  It is black, looks much like an ordinary stone . . . It radiates a kind of light that shines dark. Much like that black lighthouse with its dark light, but more . . . evil. Sinister, deadly, and . . . hungry. _

She frowned, not sure at what she saw. It looked familiar, like she had seen it somewhere, but . . . the memory kept on disappearing from her mental grasp. "A black stone . . . something like that. It shines darkly. It sucks in the light and changes it into dark energy." 

Koushiro had the same look of perplexity. " . . . Why do I have the feeling I've seen it?"

Kimika looked at him in surprise. She wasn't that certain if she had seen it somewhere or it was just imagination, but Koushiro sounded like that he knew he had seen it, but uncertain of the memory. "You have?"

"I know I have, but how did I? I have this memory that I try to grasp on . . ."

"From your past?"

"Probably." Koushiro sighed, shaking his head. "I'm sure I will eventually remember it."

Kimika mentally frowned. Since Koushiro was the Warder and knew everything about the Digiworld and Digimon, should he even remember a memory? Was he really supposed to know everything . . . ? She found it odd since he knew so much about this world and still, he couldn't even recall a simple memory. She put the thought aside as Koushiro recited the last riddle.

_'One in the center,_

_Shall you bear the slayer to end all?'_

_The rainbow sword is held by a human hand._

_'Shall you unite the time to end all?'_

_Many symbols float in midair, most of them recognized as crest symbols. Only six of them are new. They come in three circles. The outer circle carries the Old Kids' symbols. The middle one is with the New Kids' crests. The inner circle bears four new symbols: an hourglass, three triangles binding altogether, two circles linked with an arc in between, and a triangle with three lighting bolts on it. The circles spin around two crests, one looking like Heart, but with the other half and the other one a circle with a lighting bolt through. Then they mingle into a new crest symbol, which is a perfect circle, the middle twisted, the symbol of infinity, colored as the rainbow._

_'Shall you sacrifice the sight to end all?_

_You alone decide our fate.'_

_Blackness . . .                                                    _

Kimika gasped as the blackness covered her sight and she was truly blinded for a second before it was restored. She calmed down with Koushiro's comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm okay . . . thanks. I see the sword again, this time held by someone . . . Then all the crest symbols - I recognize all but six - mingling into a new symbol."

"Seven?"

She nodded. "Yes, there are seven crest symbols that I don't recognize. I know they are crests, it's just a feeling. Six that mingle with outs and the last one."

"What did they look like?"

"Oh, I couldn't see very well . . . they come so fast, but the last one looks clear enough. It's shaped like an eight, with all the colors."

He again stared at the screen. "Seven crests . . . I guess that five of them could belong to the Fallen Children."

"Wait a minute. I thought Nikhai had the Crest of Heart?"

Koushiro shrugged his hands. "I don't know . . . Maybe it is something else."

Kimika grunted and rubbed her eyes before said, "What about the other two or three crests?"

"They could belong to any Digidestined out there . . ."

The Seer found it irritating that she still didn't understand while Koushiro seemed to know about something. "If the five don't belong to the Fallen, they could belong to anybody."

He remained silent, meditating, and then his black eyes glanced up to the other resident in the cottage: Sanimon. Kimika was surprised that she forgot about her. Sanimon was so quiet and had an ability to 'slide' in the shadows and remain unnoticed. Something that Kimika can do. Sanimon had drunk her tea calmly, watched the two kids with keenness. When Koushiro looked at her, Sanimon faintly smiled and just waited until Koushiro asked. "You know, don't you?" He arched an eyebrow. "After all, you're the Guardian of the Digidestined."

Sanimon simply nodded as she sipped some more. Her golden eyes turned to Kimika and she asked, "Can you recall what the other crests look like?" Kimika shook her head in response. The Digimon understand. "Unfortunately, I don't recognize the symbol. As with the others, I'm afraid I can't help here. I have my limits, though I'm curious."

"Can you help with anything else?" Koushiro asked.

Sanimon moved to sit at Koushiro's other side and peered carefully at the translated riddles, impressed at how well the kids solved. "Now that you discovered the basic meaning of the riddles, you're one step closer to defeat Daematermon, but nothing close enough." Her tiny finger pointed at the line of Daematermon. "_'One that dies not, you must not end.'_ It represents Daematermon, obviously, from the Seer's reading. She cannot die . . ."

Kimika was horrified. "She is immortal?"

Sanimon shook her head. "No, not immortal . . . Trapped by life. She wants to die . . ."

Kimika blinked in surprise, and then looked over to Koushiro as he nodded. "That feeling from her . . . Yes, I feel that from her. Loneliness, anger and sadness."

The first time they met Daematermon, the Digidestined and Digimon had perceived a sensation of anger, along with grief, from her, much like what Apocalypmon had. Several of them felt sympathy for her while the rest were just confused at the feelings. Kimika exhaled, shaking her head, trying to ignore the recall. _'One that dies not, you must not end.'_ "So we can't kill her." 

"No, if you do, the world will end," Sanimon said.

"But she's the one who killed the Digimon and destroyed the Shields!" Koushiro protested.

The Guardian again shook her head. "No, Vampdevimon did that. Daematermon wants nothing of those."

Koushiro gazed to a musing Kimika and said, "Then what does she want with Cleo and the Crest of Heart?" Even though that he was looking at Kimika, his words were meant for Sanimon. Kimika sighed, seeing the emotions raging in the black eyes and risked a glance at Sanimon. She was looking at him with sympathy. 

"I'm sure everything will be cleared in time."

"Time?" Koushiro's voice raised an octave as he whirled to the Digimon. "We don't have time!"

Kimika, already knowing what will happen, quickly squeezed her hands on his arm, rubbing it in order to calm him. She felt him stiffening, but then finally relaxed. His head was bowed, keeping his eyes on his laptop. Kimika waited to make sure that Koushiro's emotions were calm, and then asked Sanimon, "Is there another way to save the worlds?"

"Oh, yes, there is a way. I don't know if it's possible to find the place again, but I do believe it's at that temple."

"Which one?" Koushiro grunted, scowling, as Kimika tilted her head. Sanimon just smiled and he continued, "You have too many temples. What do you worship, anyway?"

"You," was the Guardian's simple answer, and her grin widened. "This temple isn't what you think. Warder, do you recall where you first received your power?"

_How Koushiro could forget? Kimika thought. It was hard enough not to forget the place where the Digidestined first got their power. The memories were still fresh, and despite that there were a lot of pain and suffering involved, the Digidestined were fond of these moments, remembering when they found that they were chosen to carry powers born out of their crests, proving that they were needed to protect the worlds._

Koushiro nodded as he remembered. "At an old building somewhere deep in a jungle . . . Do you know what that place is?"

Sanimon seemed glad that he remembered. "It was long lost, thought to be lost forever. When you found your power there, I was astonished and excited. The place was called the Central. It's supposed to contain all the data remembered from the Digiworld. The very history of our world. Unmons used to protect it jealously, making sure that no iota of data was deleted. No one knows what happened to it; believed to be vanished after the First Battle and the Digiworld's first rebooting."

" . . . I see . . ." Koushiro crossed his arms. "So, to find a way to defeat Daematermon, we have to go to this Central to find how the Final Battle ended."

"You can find everything that you need to know . . . It would be extremely helpful for our future."

Kimika silently watched, her mind already psychically connected with Koushiro's head, knowing what he was thinking as he said, "So what is the problem?"

Sanimon gave him an affectionate look. "You get on quick. If my knowledge serves me well, I believe that the Central is encoded. You have to set a code to decode the access block."

Koushiro faintly smiled and Kimika knew that he wouldn't turn down a challenge. "Do you think I can decode it?"

"You almost did."

Now Kimika straightened up in perplexity as Koushiro tilted his head toward Sanimon. "I did? How did I?"

The red-robed Digimon chuckled, leaning back. "I suggest that you go there and find it yourself."

Koushiro resisted from rolling his eyes and pressed on, "Would it demand us too long? Have all of us go together?"

Kimika broke her silence by shaking her head. "No, we don't have to. We can just go on our own."

He looked at her in surprise. "You wish to go along?"

"Hey, I helped with the riddles! No way that you keep me away," Kimika flashed a soft smile.

Sanimon suggested, "It's better to take those who had gone with you. Better to keep the Central hidden." There was light concern in her face. "I don't know what anybody will do to it . . ."

The redhead nodded. "Agreed. We will convoy Matt."

"Take Frankie, too."

"But he doesn't know anything about the Central," Koushiro protested.

"You trust him, don't you? Remember, Frankie and Cleo are new Digidestined and so they replace TK and Kari in their places, respectively. TK and Kari belong to the Armor Children."

Kimika understood what she meant; she always understood. Frankie and Cleo were already known to the group before Takeru and Hikari joined with the New Kids, so it was like that Frankie and Cleo took up their positions to 'balance' it out. It did make sense.

Koushiro leaned back on his hands, his mind busy with the planning. "Ok, so we can't tell anybody else."

Sanimon looked lightly relieved. "They will know about it later, just not now. The Central, now that it's found, is too valuable to us."

Kimika smiled to herself. Finally, something to do! She didn't look at it as an adventure, but as an opportunity to find more information on Daematermon and hopefully, something that will help stop her. Anything will be very helpful! She cleared her throat to get Koushiro's attention. "Izzy, do you think we can do this after we meet up with the Holy Beasts? I know that we can do it while the others go talk with the Holy Beasts, but would that be better if the others finish talking and return here while we find the Central?"

Koushiro considered for a moment, and then looked over to Cleo with hesitance in his face. Kimika held her breath, hoping and knowing that it wasn't good for him to stay and brood over this too much. He needed to do something and this was his chance.

Sanimon voiced, "Don't worry, we will watch over her, too."

Koushiro chuckled and nodded "I know you will. But I worry about the absence of time. Do we have time?"

"No, and that's why we need to hurry."

"No time to waste . . ." Kimika silenced, waiting for his answer. Koushiro peered at his computer for a moment, thinking, and then a wide grin crossed on his face. "Izzy?"

The black eyes gazed over to her. "Kim, I have confidence that we might be able to do this."

Kimika's grin matched his. "Is there any doubt?"

"Yes, there is," Koushiro responded seriously, then smiled, "and I still have hope."

"Faith, Izzy." Kimika corrected him. "Faith."

"Yes, faith . . ." Kimika thought the smile on his face made him more handsome and cheerful. He shut down his laptop and stood up. "Come on, let's tell Matt and Frankie about our new plans!"

***

"Look, they begin to have faith."

"Your faith."

A soft, almost shy chuckle. "Not mine. I only carry it."

A loving smile toward him, then she sighed. "Still, even with faith, there's bound to have doubt present. My only concern is that they might lose faith long before the Battle."

"The Battle isn't theirs. It belongs to the Fallen." A tilt of his head. "Has your student gotten the rest ready?"

Silence.

"Soul mate?"

"It's so long since I hear the word student. I no longer see him as my student, but as my son."

"You love him as a son and so I understand. His pain is your pain."

"But my hope is not his hope . . ." Bitterness fouled her voice. "I departed this world before I could give it to him."

He carried hope in his voice. "He still keeps on living, doesn't he?"

"Only because of her."

". . .  which is fortunate, for if it wasn't for her, all the battles the Digimon and the Digiworld, me including, have fought and suffered would be in vain."

Another span of silence, which later was broken by quiet cries.

"Oh, soul mate, I'm sorry I made you cry."

"No it's not your fault." A sigh whispered. "He's not ready, nor the others, I fear."

"They will be."

" . . . I only hope."

***

"Clever little Seeker . . . hiding your Shield here." Vampdevimon allowed a smirk on his black face as he admired the sight of countless windmills.

The hills were covered with windmills of every kind, lazily spinning in the gusts that were famous in the Windy Hills. The windmills were of every kind, wooden ones with whitewash paint peeling off, metal kinds that span silently, rounded and modern, and there were even pinwheels standing among the giants, their colorful blades flashing against the green landscapes. Vampdevimon was surprised that it was the first time since his odd dark mood that he admired the sight. He didn't know why the windmills pleased him, but perhaps it was just because of human nature.  He had learned much more than enough about humans from his former 'visit' to Earth during Myotismon's reign. Mostly, he just sneered and looked down to the ant-like people from the tops of the buildings, but he found humans interesting. For instance, humans loved to hide things in obvious sight.

He was supposed to seek for the Air Shield here. He assumed that the Shield would be in a fashion of something related to the element of air. The Windy Hills in the middle of the Continent of Cipher was a place mostly likely to hide the Air Shield. Also, the Shield could be in the shape of a windmill or a pinwheel, and not to his surprise, it _was _a windmill. So easy to hide and so hard to find. Vampdevimon enjoyed a challenge, even though that he knew he could figure the enigma quick enough. The only obstacle in his way was _which one_.

His golden eyes scrutinized the area carefully, picking up anything that might look out of place. A glimpse of red and he found it. It wasn't hard at all, but he knew that he could overlook the tiny simple-looking pinwheel standing in between of gigantic metallic windmills. Any less-experienced observers would miss it if he hasn't noticed that the blades weren't moving in the winds. The pinwheel was dark red, contrasting against the grey-blue metal windmills, its body white with light orange lines spiraling downward. The blades remained unmoving, like was in dead air. How unusual for the Air Shield.

Well, he knew the Seeker pretty good, more than any other Digidestined, for he was the one who followed and tricked her into losing her faith in her crest. He knew how she thought, how she acted. She had an air of politeness, although her roughness can often fool any spectator. Protective and motherly, he found himself growing closer to her than he expected. Not in this lovey-dovey mushy stuff that those humans held highly, but a definite affection that he'd developed from his annoyance and disappointment when he failed in attempting to make her forget. She wasn't stubborn or determined, but she knew who she was, and she was willing not to give her identity up to anybody. She was proud. She had all this love for her friends and family that he could almost _see _it glowing.                                       

And he was jealous of her for having love in return. Vampdevimon scowled, growled. Where did these thoughts come from? He watched the pinwheel, almost wishing it to spin, watching to see some life in it. It was ironic in some way to him that the pinwheel was the same color as the Seeker's crest and yet there was no life moving in the pinwheel, no gusts strong enough to move the blades an inch. He stared at it for a moment until it appeared to him that the pinwheel was like him. Energetic, eager for battles, and searching for life to move on, and . . . he had no life of his own. His life belonged to his mother, to Fate, to Death. He had no control over his life. He was resurrected, but only to serve his mother and face the Digidestined. Was that supposed to be his life? Fighting and serve one another? Was he supposed to be his own master? 

No . . . If he was his own master, he wouldn't stand here, staring at the damned pinwheel, wasting his time! Destroying the shields meant nothing to him now . . . The world was already weak! What point was to destroy the shields, only to weaken the world far more? What was it in for him . . . ? Vampdevimon sighed, sitting down, cursing his thoughts, but the feeling of loss was still there. Was that the punishment to be alive? It was fated. He will face the Digidestined. He will fail to them, as his mother said. And he will die to Oblivion . . . That wasn't right. It was not right . . . He wanted to know why. Why was he brought here for? Why was he chosen to fight against the good forces? Why? Why? He wanted answers, but he knew that he won't get them from Daematermon. She was too preoccupied right now even to express her 'motherly love'.

Motherly love . . . Vampdevimon was startled, seeing the face of the Seeker. The girl had showed motherly love to her friends, as much as his mother showed it to him . . . Has he really wanted motherly love . . . ? No . . . That wasn't it. That wasn't what he wanted to know. Just about his existence. He could ask this little Watcher, but he had no clue to her whereabouts. Prophetmon, the legendary prophet that predicted the legends of the Digidestined? Doubt it. Maybe . . . Maybe the Unmons? They knew pretty much about the histories, and probably had lived through the First Battle, and so they might know about Daematermon. But how and who to find?

Vampdevimon faintly smiled. Gennai Unmon . . . the only Unmon who was often seen by Digimon and was the Mentor for the kids. He must have answers . . .

He stood up and began to walk away before he stopped and turned to look down at the pinwheel. He then reached down and plucked it out. His movements had triggered the pinwheel into spinning its blades, but only for a second. He absently stroked the blades before his other hand sent tongues of black fire to burn it down. 

_Fate will not control me . . . Nor you . . ._

***

_(Ha! I was totally unexpected when I wrote this about Sora. Have I actually developed a fondness for her? Have I actually overlooked her outward appearances and accepted her personality and pride? Have I?! Oh, god, I don't know! I know I write her so bloody good, but . . . Oh, god! *breaks down in tears as Defy comforts me* No offense to Sora fans, even though you probably are. ^~;; )_

***

_A thin line of blood-red dashes past, pulsating as if by heartbeat, and a voice . . ._

_Nor you . . ._

She quietly gasped in start as faint agony stabbed within her chest, just where her heart was. The pain was not terrible, but just painful enough to jerk her into gasps and tensing of her body as she attempted to ease it down. Her skin became feverish, and not even the icy-cold breeze could soothe her. Just now, a thin outline of her red aura appeared around her, illuminating the small area, revealing her sitting on a rock in the Zen garden, just after the sun set, Frankie sitting by.

She could see the utter concern and worry reflecting in his face as he noticed the agony on her face and the aura. "Sky . . ." As quick, his strong arms came around her, surprising and warming her, she feeling heavy protection in the muscles. The warmth somewhat cooled down her feverish skin and she allowed herself to settle in his arms, waiting for the agony to fade away.

She barely heard the voice of Frankie, "It'll be alright. We will stop him. We will."

Sora said nothing, closing her eyes, bewilderment and sympathy coming in replacement of the vanishing pain. _Stop Vampdevimon? Will we? I heard his voice . . . I felt his heart beating with mine . . . Was . . . was he thinking of something when he destroyed my Shield? Was it . . . desire? Of what? . . . And why I feel pity for him . . . ? _

To be continued!


	14. Talking with Holy Beasts

_Author's note _

_*Suddenly shoots at the screen with Dai-chan's Letter Gun, the tiny booms and shrieks filling the air. They are spooky enough to cause you to take shelter. Smoke also fill the screen, and soon, the trusty (not all the time, but still . . .) Demy blows the smoke away with his trusty wings.*_

Demy: Are you trying to imply something?

Debbie: Quiet!

_*Gigantic letters, forming the disclaimer, has covered almost the entire screen, blinding you with a glaring yellow color*_

(DISCLAIMER:  I DO NOT OWN DIGIMON: DIGITAL MONSTERS)

Debbie: Damn, Dai must've mixed her black ink cartridge with the yellow one again.

Demy: *sniggers* Not this time. *sniggers*

Debbie: *rolls eyes* Why ain't I surprised?

Demy: Because you made us predictable?                                                            

_*Debbie opens her mouth, then stops, figuring that it's BETTER not to answer him*_

Debbie: Anyway . . . For the disclaimer, I guess that it's better to use a less violent way to explain that I'm just a lousy, obsessed fangirl who likes to torture characters for my own bloody reasons. *blows away smoke from the computer mouse-shaped gun and aims it over your shoulder* And you better accept it or the cat will get it.

Demy: It's not a very friendly method, either.

_*Dai rushes in and gives him a noisy kiss*_

Dai: SSMMMMOOOUUUCCCCH!

Demy: GAH! Ewewewewewewewewew! Get away! *escapes out the screen with Dai chasing after him*

Debbie: It IS good to be the queen. Enjoy the show, darlings.

_(And even if the Disclaimer isn't in the terrible yellow text, imagine it. That's what Imagination is for. :))_

Author's Note: Yes, there is a reason *why* the Old Kids had to go see the Holy Beasts. This chapter will explain why. I hope you will enjoy this, especially the battle scenes. The scene with Tai and Izzy is really my favorite. The issue between them has always kept me thinking. Each of the four scenes as the Old Kids meeting up with the Holy Beasts happen at the approximate same time. Do not ask if they happen at the exact same time. I'm not God.

Also, the versions of the Holy Beasts here are mine, not straight from the cards. I only guess right that the other Holy Beasts beside Azulongmon are the right animals. I made the versions before I found out that Zhuqiaomon has two heads instead of one and Ebonwumon and Baihumon are actually males. :p Shows that I'm not always prepared. ^^;; Also, This time, I'm using the Japanese names for the attacks of the Machine Digimon in the chapter, because I couldn't find/remember any American names for the attacks.

Sky gets her wish. There is ACTION down here! ^^ Enjoy yourselves, darlings.

Children of the Digital

Chapter Fourteen: Talking with Holy Beasts

By Debbie (Dai-chan)

He eyed his companion, seating upon one of the Zen rocks, crossing his arms in appalling doubt. He knew that it was useless to be that upset, but after what she said, it affected him. It darkened his moods. It clouded his trust in the Digidestined, but his faith never wavered at the words. He had faith that the children will save the world, but he couldn't help it but feeling unhappy toward his soul mate. He thought that she lived so long, lived every life of all the Digimon who had lived, were living, and will be living, she might had gained wisdom and acceptance of Fate. Yet, she proved him wrong. She was just like the gal she once was, hesitant, doubtful, and pessimistic. She never changed even after thousands of years.

She was standing by the little cottage, which housed the only Digidestined that could decide the very fate that ruled life and death. He knew what she was thinking; she was surprised to see that the little Watcher looked so alike to a certain Digidestined she once knew eons ago. She was also angry. He didn't know the reason yet, but he wasn't determined to find out. He wanted to know how she could think that the children would fail. The Final Battle will be not a repeating of the First Battle, no matter how she believes.

He finally spoke out his irritation, "Seijamon, again and again you speak of faith and how marvelous it can be if anybody believes in it, and yet, as the Final Battle approaches, you dare to lose it?"  

" . . . "

In an instant, she was at his side, not looking at him. The realities of the Digiworld had no effect on them. They were able to stay invisible to anybody whenever they wished, can choose to move from a far place to another faster than a blink of the eye. He was astonished at the strange and effective powers he got, but then she had explained that when he died, he was free from the mortal reality, no longer affecting him. Even after a year, the powers still surprised him at times.

He glanced over to her, and there was a mix of emotions in her smooth face that he was very familiar with. Yet, he asked, "Are you troubled?"

She bitterly frowned, closing her white eyes. "Troubled? You ask me if I'm troubled? Yes, I'm!" She whirled around at him, her movement causing winds stirring against snow. She then averted her head away. "I don't need to tell you what's troubling my heart."

"Sorrow. Anger. Death."             

"Yes."

He then chuckled in amusement. "You sound like me when I was alive."

She mildly smiled. "And you got over it because you learned to have faith."

"Then why are you so troubled over this?"

Her white eyes darkened, unlike his bright black eyes. "Because you died to get it. What if they have to die to get faith? This's not right. They're just - "

"Children, yes, I know." He silently got down from the rock, his white jacket swaying against his legs. "But I'm not a child nor was one when I became a Digidestined."

There was such sorrow in her eyes that made him wonder if she shared the same sorrow her 'son' had. "Why must you die?"

She asked the question so many times and yet he never grew tired of hearing it. He was quite happy that he did die because after life, he finally had something to do by himself and that was to protect the very world he was seeking for. He told that to her, "I chose to die because it was my choice. I wanted to correct my mistakes - and Myalomyotismon's - and the only way I could do it was to die. So the world will live once again."

He watched as she shook her head as if wasn't believing him, and turned her gaze toward somewhere in the distance. Their visions were unlimited, and they can lock on someone miles and miles away, keener and sharper than a hawk. He knew that she was looking at her 'son'. He just knew; he and she shared the same life-force.

"Like you did the same thing to him, remember? When he nearly perished from the virus."

Still, she didn't answer, the sorrow still in her eyes.

***

The scene was an ocean that seemed to fill the horizon with crystal waters. The waters were free of any icebergs, as any northern waters usually had. Although, the waters were known for the icy-cold sensations, offering hypothermia to anybody foolish enough to swim in. Accompanying the ocean, named Polar Sea, there were large series of archipelagoes, hundreds of small islets, along with an occasional larger island in a distance. Scattered close enough to each other, the islands formed a colorful reef in between, coloring the waters blue-green with a tint of orange and pink. All the islands were covered with snow, as usual as any island in far north. There was a crispy chilliness in the air.

Kido Hisoka eyed the archipelago with a faint visage of interested confusion. He was crouching on a high snow dome for better vision, although any higher rise was not necessary, for he was at a cliff that lined the western edge of Polar Sea. His white clothing gave him great ease to mingle within his element of ice, the air brushing at his orange-streaked russet hair. Behind him, snow peaks raised high and tall, surrounded by evergreen trees. He faintly listened to the crashes of the waver far bottom at the cliff's bottom, but his concentration was on the groups of islands. After a long moment, he grunted.

"So we have to find a moving island?" Frankie ran his hands through his unkempt hair. "How silly can it be?"

He tried to ignore the knowing smile of his brother, who was standing beside the dome, as Jyou voiced, "Do I have to say it again? Here, anything can -"

"'Anything can be possible,'" the russet-haired boy hurriedly overlapped him, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He then gazed back. "But I have to say this: We've been staring at those islands for a while. I'm really doubtful that there's an island that does move."

Jyou simply shrugged, but still grinned. "We will keep watching for another while, like it or not." He then moved toward the cliff's edge, taking care of his balance. Interestingly, his black clothing made him a target for miles against the whiteness, but he appeared unruffled over this.

Frankie quietly watched him and the islands. Just a few hours ago, he and Jyou were transported straight from Destiny Island, using Akemimon's new-modified Digiport, to the northern part of Server, the coldest place in the Digiworld, much like Russia. The brothers knew what to do; all they needed to find was an archipelago somewhere to find an island that moves. The reason why was that the Water Turtle, Zhuqiaomon, was the one who hid their crests for safety to keep the Shields alive. Jyou's crest has been broken, and so they needed to find the Turtle in time before the crest collapsed any further. 

Frankie shook his head. Finding a moving island? How ridiculous! Ok, ok, so it might be possible in the Digiworld, but will they have _time _to find it? He frowned at the thought. Sometimes, he had a feeling that the Unmons or whatever it was muddling in was leading the Digidestined in a wild goose chase. If there was an actual moving island, then it better be here _now_. 

"Frankie!"

The Keeper blinked at the call and turned to see the black-clad teenager beckoning toward him. He hurried to his side and gave him a questioning look.

"Did you notice something different?" Jyou asked as he pointed toward the archipelago.

Frankie took another effort of patience and gazed carefully at a small group of islands at the far side of the archipelago. After a moment, he couldn't resist but muttered in exclamation. "I'll be darned. That island is actually moving!"

Sure enough, the island was the biggest; its size could swallow most of the present islands, and it was lugging. The movements would be overlooked, but the ripples at the bottom gave it away. The island appeared not to be covered with snow, instead with green-grey barnacles around the edges and reaching up halfway. On the upper side, there was some kind of design that was difficult to regard.

Jyou also looked at it. "One problem, though . . . It's too far. We need to get there by now."

"Oh, yeah. " Frankie rolled his eyes and straightened up. "And how will we do that? Swimming?"

Jyou stared at the island for a moment, appearing thoughtful, before he turned around and walked back from the cliff. Frankie remained where he was, watching him with puzzlement. Soon, his face changed into an expression of incredulous surprise.

"Oh, you can't be serious . . ."

Frankie was forced to sidestep as Jyou came forward in a dash that took him off the cliff. With a graceful dive, the Reconciler disappeared down the cliff. The Keeper carefully peered over the cliff to see a nice and almost silent splash that marked his brother's insane action. He grunted. "Show-off."

Jyou then surfaced, a tiny dot in the middle of waves, and laughed with glee. "C'mon, Frankie! Dive in!"

"Dive in?" Frankie made a mischievous chuckle. "I will dive my way."

With a minute of concentration, he summoned his Ice Power. From his hand, a beam of bright white shone out and touched the air below. The beam froze the air into ice, a flat solid that formed into a kind of slide. It sloped down and down to the surface of the ocean, twisting and arching. Jyou watched with interest as he watched his brother gliding down his custom slide, screaming in thrill until he sharply skid into a stop, balancing perfectly on the slide, stopping right beside Jyou. Frankie flashed him a victory's sign.

"Show-off," Jyou muttered, arching an eyebrow.

Frankie crouched down to push his grinning face in Jyou's wet face. "Hey, you're the one who foolishly dove in icy water! I'm supposed to do that."

The black-haired boy simply smiled. "So you're jealous of my dive."

Frankie gave out a bellowing laugh, his hand ruffling the long hair. "Joe, Joe, I just love it when you're so ignorant of my talents."

"Ha, you wish!" Jyou barked, floating backward from him. He then flashed him a shrewd look. "Tell you what, if you are so confident of yourself, why won't we go ahead and see how well we handle our powers." He jerked a thumb toward the slowly moving island. "We will race to that island. See who gets there first."

Frankie chuckled; he'd never known that Jyou can be competitive, but there was nothing wrong with trying to use one's strength for simple fun. They haven't tried any fun for a while, and a degree of delight and excitement would do them good to keep positive. Frankie took a careful look at the path Jyou had picked; the path was full of blocking islands, but of course, any other path was the same. Still, it would be fun . . .

"With our powers?" Frankie murmured, rubbing his chin. "Hm, too easy for my taste."

Jyou made an exasperated grimace. "Oh, brother . . ." His dusky eyes deepened with contained eagerness. "On three . . ."

"One, two, THREE!"

The Kido Brothers burst into action that would envy any kind of thrill-seekers. The Reconciler cherished swimming and diving, and so, using his powers to enhance his swimming skills, he broke water with such silkiness that he was like a dolphin in a human shape. While he smoothly swan, the Keeper used his power to summon more of the ice to expand the slide, effortlessly circling the taller islands, trying to catch up to his brother. Closer and closer, they raced, nose to nose, speeding toward the gigantic island. Suddenly, a tidal wave splashed against the surface of the island as Jyou arrived a mere second before Frankie 'skid' into a stop. They were panting out of breath, due to their efforts to use their powers fully; they haven't tried them for a long time. 

Frankie laughed as he plopped down on the slide. "Not bad!" He allowed the slide's end to lower down to let Jyou shove himself upon it.

"You're not bad, either," Jyou grinned as he twisted his hair and clothes dry.

The younger teenager exchanged his grin, then gazed upward at the vast side that seemed to stretch to the corners of his vision. The barnacles were sure thick and firmly lodged on the side. Even so, the surface appeared odd to him. The island didn't look that much as any normal island. There were no plants, no trees, not even sand or rocks at the edges. It was too round, too tall, and too smooth. He couldn't see the top at all, not from where he was.

"What a funny-looking island." He then cranked his neck to peer up. "Are you sure we will find Zhuqiaomon on it?"

Jyou followed his gaze. "We will have to try. We have to climb it."

"Allow me." Again, Frankie's control of the slide caused it to add structure as it bent into a bench. It then raised upward, carrying the brothers on it, until it arrived at the top. They got off lightly on the surface and were surprised to find it stony hard with a faint echo of hollowness underneath. Frankie knelt down and felt the surface. It was rough and recently damp. "Look at this, Joe! The surface looks like it's been underwater for a while."

"Indeed?" Jyou joined him, touching the top. "Hm . . . you're right."

Frankie noticed something different. Where the top wasn't touched with barnacles, it was dark green with darker blue lines paralleling each other. The lines were about a hand apart. He stared at the lines in confusion, then shook his head as he again sensed the languid movements of the island. "This island isn't real."

"How can you guess?"

Frankie stood up, setting his fists on his hips. "It's _moving_. Islands do not move." He quickly held up a warning finger before Jyou opened his mouth. "_And!_ And I don't care if moving islands are possible. It's logical."

Jyou stared at him, then smiled. "For your information, islands do move, just too slowly for us to notice. They move by plate tectonics."

His brother threw up his hands. "I just can't win."

Jyou chuckled before he stood up. "Nope."

Frankie looked around the top, seeing nothing but the rough, barnacled surface that was oddly lined. "Well, I suppose we won't find Zhuqiaomon that way, eh? Let's see if he - "

He was violently cut off by a tremble rumbling through the island. That wasn't feeling normal. The tremble may feel light, but it seemed to be started from the very bottom and rumbled upward, increasing in waves until it met the boys' feet as a quake.

"Whoa . . ." Frankie fought to keep his balance.

Jyou paled. "Now I don't like the feeling of this."

Again, the island rumbled. The rumbles became more violently, first moving side to side, then now up and down. The quakes were strong enough to knock the boys down to their feet.

Frankie struggled to grasp his hold on the barnacles, his eyes wide. "Ok, ok, islands do move! You don't have to prove that!"

Suddenly, the island rose in what had to be a 'hiccup', in which the sudden movement sent the boys off balance. Even so that the barnacles were tough, they didn't offer a firm handhold. The boys slid, their hands searching for any possible hold, too surprised to summon on their powers for safety. They splashed right in the sea, even as the island continued to rise, revealing more of the bottom. It seemed that the island didn't have a bottom at all, just more of the barnacled surfaces. The boys hurriedly came to the surface, gasping for breath. The raising island caused waves that pushed them away; in a way, it helped them to avoid the coming bottom, whatever it was.

A glance of black attracted their attention, and they turned to meet a gigantic black eye in the face. Frankie yelled in surprise as Jyou again paled, but the blue-tinted eye simply formed a languid, sleepy blink. Soon, the island grew a head out from the water. It was surprisingly large, as large as the entire bulk of Ankylomon. There were two holes on the top, water spraying out from it, and the head was dark blue with some hint of green among the thick wrinkles. The head gave the impression of age and sleepiness that struck Frankie as a head of a grandfather.

It was . . . the shape of a turtle's head . . .

_An__ turtle! _Frankie astonishingly realized as he remarked the body of the Water Turtle. The island _was _the Water Turtle! The island that moves! _Of course . . .___

The head slowly moved forward until the eye was close up to the floating boys, their faces clearly reflected in the faint milky lens. A rumbling bass voice came out from the wide mouth. "Were you the lads who tickled my shell?"

Frankie couldn't help but sweatdropping. "Tickling? Hehe . . ." _'Good grief!'___

Jyou peered intently at the eye. "Are you Zhuqiaomon?"

Zhuqiaomon carefully nodded, casting more waves that Jyou quickly calmed down to avoid brushing the boys away. "Yes, it's I. What were you doing upon my shell, lads? You woke me from a pleasant dream."

The Reconciler smiled, placing his hands together in apology. "Sorry, sir. We're trying to find you. It's urgent. My Shield is broken."

The eye slightly looked up as if was thinking. " . . . Ah . . . the Water Shield. You must be one of these Digidestined Gennai Unmon informed me about." The eye returned. "I assume that you're present to heal your crest, Reconciler?"

Jyou's smile widened. "Yes, that's right. You know where it is?"

"Certainly, and I shall take you there." Then Frankie had the feeling that the eye has focused on him. "And who might you be?"

"Frankie, the Keeper."

Zhuqiaomon again paused, then his voice frowned. "Your Ice Shield is still protected. It's no need for you to be present."

Frankie nodded. "I know that, but I want to stay with Joe to make sure he gets to his crest safely."

"Keeper," Zhuqiaomon said, almost sounding offended, "the area where I will take him is one of the safest places in the Digidestined."

"I insist."

The eye slightly narrowed, then a chuckle rang from the head. "Very well, you may come. But heed, the way there will be most unpleasant to you, Keeper."

Frankie blinked. "Why's that?"

"Can you breathe underwater?"

"Breathe - ?" Frankie's mouth gaped open. "Are you serious?"

Jyou's lips grew another smile, one of knowing. "I suspect that the place is underwater . . ."

"But I don't have the ability to breathe underwater!" his brother protested. Lucky for Jyou, who had the ability to breathe underwater, given by his power.

"Oh, but you can," Zhuqiaomon said with a nod toward his shell, again causing more waves. "Under my shell, at the notch of my shoulder, there is an air bubble trapped. It's been always itching me and I've never be able to remove it. You can climb under my shell and the bubble will keep you alive until we arrive to the cavern."

Frankie took a look at wherever he thought to be the Water Turtle's right shoulder and wrinkled his nose. He tried to imagine an underwater journey jammed inside a turtle's shell and again expressed light disgust.

Jyou laughed at his face. "Looks like you're stuck with it."

Frankie glared back. Jyou also had the ability to cast a bubble to keep air underwater. He could do that for him, but Jyou wouldn't pass an opportunity to tease him. Jyou's grown to become Gomamon a bit every day. "Aw . . . okay, okay, it's fine with me. Just one more burden as a Digidestined."

Frankie took several breaths before he took a deep breath. He kept his eyes closed to avoid the salt, welcoming the warming iciness that surrounded him nicely. He felt the hands of Jyou on his arm, sensing the moving water around him, as the Reconciler guided him to the air bubble. First, he had his hands on the roughest skin he's ever experienced, then he felt air around him. The scent struck him with a heavy wetness, a kind of musk that smelt salty, and it weighed on him. He opened his eyes to the darkness, and he summoned a bit of his white aura to play among his skin. The air bubble was set right on the shoulder, the bumpy skin stretching over muscles and the interior of the shell. 

Frankie pulled himself out and crawled up to find a comfortable spot, which was difficult. Lastly, he was crouched on a bump that he guessed to be the shoulder bone or the collarbone; he wasn't that keen on biology. He braced his hands up on the skinny 'ceiling' and looked down to Jyou, who was still floating in the small spot of water.

"You okay up there?"

"Aside from being under a stinky shell, yeah, sure." He gave a confident smile and a thumbs-up.

After Jyou disappeared underwater, Frankie tried to get comfortable, wondering what will happen to him soon. He was kinda glad that he wasn't claustrophobic, but in a tiny place like this, you would never know . . . Almost suddenly, he could feel and see the muscles and bone moving as Zhuqiaomon swan downward. The bone wasn't that comfy, and he moved to sit on a muscle, which frequently moved up and down gently. He removed his aura and found the spot surprisingly content to rest quietly. The swim wasn't as long as he thought so; perhaps Zhuqiaomon was big enough to reach lengths of swimming in mere seconds. After a short while, he then noticed that the muscles had slowed down. A second later, he saw the spot of water becoming brighter with an underwater white light somewhere. As Zhuqiaomon moved closer to that light, it became brighter.

_'Where does that light come from?' _Frankie wondered.

Then Jyou's head surfaced. "Hey, we're here."

"Joe, what's that light?" Frankie asked as he sloped down to the water's surface.

"You will see." Jyou seemed to hold a secret as he held up a hand. "C'mon."

When Frankie got in the water, he was surprised to find the water comfortably warm, almost like hot springs. It was freshwater, too, as Frankie was guided by Jyou to the surface. The white light was easily to be seen; it was everywhere, and the source was the brightest at the surface. Whiteness met his eyes, and Frankie found himself in a room that was strangely familiar. The room was like a chamber, its ceiling set so high that it wasn't seen. The walls were pure white, soft to the eyes, but the floor was covered with slimy algae. Near a wall, there was a tall stairway, colored white to almost fool eyes, and at the far wall, there was a large pool, full of dark blue water, in which Frankie and Jyou have just surfaced.

Frankie grinned as he remembered the place. "I remember this room! It's the Fountain of Purity!"

"Pretty clever, huh?" Jyou nodded as they swam over to the edge.

"Really good place to hide your crest." Frankie came out and looked around, faintly puzzled. "I wonder if the Gomamons are here."

"I don't know if they are here . . ." Jyou then turned to Zhuqiaomon. "Well?"

Frankie again puzzled at how could it be possible for Zhuqiaomon to shove his huge head out from the pool, considering his size and shell, but decided to put it aside. Digimon are Digimon. They have ways to work things out. They always do. Zhuqiaomon was shaking his head to Jyou's question, and surprisingly, his head didn't splash upon them. "I haven't seen them for a time. I only hope that nothing harmful has fallen on them."

Frankie exhaled unhappily. _'Danger again . . . oddly enough, Zhuqiaomon said this place is one of the safest places . . . why would the Gomamons leave . . .?'_

He watched as the Holy Beast brought a Digicore that looked much different from what Azulongmon used to have around his cloudy body. It was pitch-black, almost as dark as Jyou's crest color. It was glowing gently as the small globe floated over to Jyou, who took it in his hands.

"All you have to do is add this to your crest," said Zhuqiaomon. "That should be able to heal it."

Frankie thought he saw a light anguish on Jyou's face, perhaps for the broken crest, but then he nodded toward Zhuqiaomon with faint persistence in his eyes. With a glance toward his brother, Jyou sprinted up the stairway with the Digicore. Frankie silently wished him luck, then turned to the Turtle. When he was almost satisfied with what Sanimon had told the Digidestined about Nikhai and the history of the Digiworld and the First Battle, Frankie felt that there was something missing. He just couldn't put a finger on it. Sure, Sanimon probably didn't know everything about what happened in the past, but there had to be something that the Digidestined should know of. Maybe it was something about the First Battle that no one else knew about, or maybe it could be a secret about Daematermon that the Fallen Children forgot or hadn't known yet that might prove the downfall of the Final Evil. It could be anything.

That's why Taichi had told the Old Kids to ask the Holy Beasts to see if they knew anything else about the First Battle and these Fallen Children.

Frankie eyed the Turtle, who also watched back, his head the only thing visible of his body. He looked very ancient, probably had lived long before the First Battle. Surely, he might know something.

"Zhuqiaomon, how old are you?" Frankie questioned as he walked up to the edge of the pool. The head was still several feet away, but its right eye was still larger than Frankie's head.

The Turtle's lips slowly grinned, forming more wrinkles. "Old. Very old."

Frankie shook his head, grinning. "Oh, you don't look over a thousand."

Zhuqiaomon chuckled. "Didn't anybody tell you that you're a charmer?"

"Well, no, but you're the first to tell me that. Thank you."

Zhuqiaomon again chuckled, then gazed attentively at the boy. "Why do you want to know?"

Frankie simply shrugged, then sat down cross-legged. He took off his trench coat and boots, put them down carefully, despite the algae-covered floor. "Because I can guess that you know about the First Battle."

"Know it? Boy, I was born long before it."

"Oh, then you probably know pretty much about the Fallen Children."

The Water Turtle slowly nodded, the eye hooding. "I know some."

Frankie felt he needed to say something to continue the conversation, "Zhuqiaomon, who was Mask?"

The eye closed as if was remembering. "The youngest girl, the Maiden of Heart." The eye opened and regarded the puzzled Frankie. "I take that you aren't being told about them."

"Well, Sanimon did, but she said she was vowed not to tell anybody about them, vowed by this Tears guy, whoever he is," Frankie said, crossing his arms.

"The Avenger of Sorrow."

For some reason, Frankie felt a great wave of grief, almost felt his eyes misting over before he blinked them. He was puzzled at the strange title, but then he almost understood why this person was named Tears for. "Sorrow . . . makes sense to me, that connected to his Heart-Name . . ." He wondered why Tears was named with that negative trait of Sorrow, but then he knew that it wasn't enough information he needed to know. "Zhuqiaomon, who are the Fallen Children, really?"

"I will tell you as much as I remember, but it's not my story to tell. I don't know about their real names, their previous lives, or even their purposes to coming there. But I will try."

Frankie sighed, but understood.

"You probably know there are five of them, right; the Avenger of Sorrow, Tears; the Matron of Doubt, Crystal; the Hunter of Shame, Smoke; the Dreamer of Fragility, Chime, and the little Mask, the Maiden of Heart."

"Why the negative traits?"

Zhuqiaomon shook his head. "I'm uncertain. Some say that the traits used to be positive traits, something wondrous about the children, just like you represent Soul to keep the spirit going in the team, but . . . the First Battle affected them and changed the traits."

_Rebooting . . . ? _Frankie shook his head. If that was true, then three years ago, when the Digiworld rebooted after Acopalymon's battle, the Digidestined's crests would've changed, too. Maybe it was something else . . . His hand went to his chest, imagining the reassuring Crest of Soul hanging underneath. "Were the crests alike to ours?"

Zhuqiaomon smiled. "The Crests weren't of our makings. I believe that the Children had some kind of jewelry, a necklace or a bracelet, perhaps, which changed into crests the minute they arrived here. Your crests came from their designs. We didn't choose them to be Digidestined, as we chose you. They chose themselves."

Frankie thirsted for more knowledge. "Did they have Digimon Guardians?"

"Actually, the Unmons - 

Frankie waved his hands to halt the Turtle. "Wait, wait, who are those Unmons? I hear that name often."

The Digimon arched an eyebrow that further formed more wrinkles. "We're not talking about them, Keeper."

"But _who _are they?"

"Keeper, you will find out." When Frankie made a serious pout, Zhuqiaomon chuckled. "I'm not avoiding the subject. I have the feeling that we will meet them in time."

_Secrets again . . . _Frankie made a tolerant sigh. "Okay."

The Water Turtle paused, as if was waiting to make sure that the Keeper was sincerely listening, and continued, "The Unmons found out about the children and, knowing how dangerous the Digiworld was - it was much wilder in the past - they chose Digimon to protect them. A Patamon for Tears, a Gazimon for Smoke, a Floramon for Crystal, an Otamamon for Chime, and a Wisimon for Mask."

"How did Wisimon become Daematermon?" Frankie questioned, already knowing a couple of answers.

"I cannot say . . . No one really knows, probably except her."

_'Hardly a chance to go to her house and merrily ask what the hell's matter with her . . .'  _Frankie rubbed his head in thought, remembering what he had known from Sanimon, Yamato, and practically everyone else, even though they were just thoughts. He pointed that out to Zhuqiaomon, "Matt, the Guardian, told me that Cleo, which is the Watcher, has a little girl ghost that looks almost exactly to her. She's dead and she used to be a Digidestined. She's hiding from her monster, Wissy, which are both Wisimon and Daematermon, as it appears to be." He shook his head. "There must be something more to this, and of course, there always is. We could've known more about the Fallen Children and the history, but Nikhai won't tell us more about her past in fear that Daematermon might find her."

Zhuqiaomon gave a puzzled look. "Nikhai?"

"Nikhai, the girl ghost. Mask."

The Turtle frowned. "That's an Unmon name."

Frankie wondered how could the name be any different from a Digimon name, except that it didn't have the suffix of 'mon'? ". . . Maybe she used it to hide from Daematermon?" It was possible . . .

"But . . ." Zhuqiaomon paused, pondering to himself for a moment, then shook his head. "Never mind this. I begin to see a connection between you and the Fallen Children, but I don't see the reason yet."

"Neither do I, but I suppose we will find out, as usual?"

Zhuqiaomon chuckled, nodding at the boy's confident grin. "As usual." Then the blue-tinted eye shifted up, noticing something.

Frankie turned around to see his brother silently walking down the stairway. "Hey, Joe, how did it go?"

He then noticed that Jyou appeared unusually crestfallen, his eyes dimmed, and his face a soft grimace. Jyou looked up at his words and weakly smiled. "Pretty good . . ."

Frankie was quick to get to his side, now concerned of his behavior. "Are you alright?"

Jyou's right hand went to rub at his left wrist, and Frankie was puzzled at that. Jyou's face again grimaced and he looked down. "I think so. It's kinda silly, isn't it?" He made a cold snicker as he glanced back to the doors upon the stairway. "Seeing your crest broken like that . . . not physically broken, but broken in spirit . . . it looks so dead, so cold, and . . ." He closed his eyes, almost shivering. "I really feel like I lost a part of myself."

Frankie's heart clenched at the sight of his brother and he wondered if he would react like that if the broken crest was his instead. He knew that the crest were really nothing but tiny squares of Chrondigizoid, etched with symbols that were supposed to represent the Digidestined's traits, but for a long time, they carried the crests, helped them glow for the Ultimate digivolutions, and even opened their hearts to discover their innate powers. The crests did hold heart, hold the experiences, the hardships the Digidestined had lived. The crests _were _part of them. 

Frankie rested a hand on his shoulder and said softly, "I don't think it's silly."

Jyou thankfully held on his hand, smiling. "Yeah . . ." He straightened up, again looking back. "Well, at least, it's mended for now. I just hope that it will last."

"If you keep faith, it will," Zhuqiaomon said with encouragement.

Frankie smiled in agreement, and then his grin faded when Jyou's face suddenly darkened. He looked uncertain, almost wanting to disbelieve the words. He sighed and turned to the Turtle, his voice surprisingly emotional, "I'm sorry, Zhuqiaomon . . . I know you mean well, but . . . I'd kept faith as long as I could remember . . . And every time I have a feeling that we will, for sure, break through the darkness . . . everything crashes. My faith plummeted once too many." His voice then darkened. "If it wasn't for the sake of the Digimon, for the worlds we protect . . ." He gave out a tired sigh. "I would've given up to her."

Zhuqiaomon said nothing, watching the Reconciler sitting down and closing his eyes, resting comfortably as much as he can. Frankie didn't move from his spot, astonished at the sudden changes of the mood in Jyou. He knew that Jyou can be cynical, but not that gloomy and dejected. He was almost angry at him for almost giving up, but then the words did make sense. The Digidestined had met darkness, death, and despair so many times that it was definitely amazing at how the children has kept on persist. Jyou was right, however . . .

The Digidestined might not have any strength left to fight any more . . .

***

"Yukio, were you surprised that you were chosen to be a Digidestined?"

He shook his head. "Not quite. I've known about the Digiworld and grown to love Digimon ever since I was a kid. I've always been dreaming to live among them. Yes, I was surprised that Dairimon appeared before me and declared that he was my partner, but . . . " A soft, proud smile came on his lips. "I was and still am glad. The Digimon forgave me. It showed that they wanted me to help protect the world."

"But then you died . . ."

It puzzled him that she began worrying so much about death that might affect the entire world and all the Digimon living there, including the Digidestined as well. He did understand why she was worried, but it was like death was only on her mind. She had died and that fact didn't bother her at all. But if anybody died, she got upset. He didn't quite get it. He rested a hand on her hand and tightened around it. "Not completely dead. I'm a spirit, just like you. Don't you see, soul mate? Because of my death, I'm able to protect my world. If I live, my world dies. It's a worthy sacrifice."

She finally smiled, like sunlight upon him. "You sure are correctly titled."

He almost unconsciously reached up to finger his newfound crest. The Martyr of Faith. He was proud of his title and trait. 

She also touched the crest for a moment, like was trying to see the powerful faith he had inside. A slight frown appeared. "But I wonder, Oikawa, how can you help the children in the Battle? You cannot physically fight . . ."

"If I cannot fight physically, then I can fight mentally with my heart, with my faith. Helping them believe that they will save us will help their faith."

When she gazed back to his crest, a new light in her face, he then knew that she was beginning to have faith.

***

"My feet hurt! We've been walking for too long."

Kimika paused in her walk and turned to smile toward Mimi, who stopped by a tree to rub on her poor feet. "Mimi, it's only a couple of hours . . ."

"Feels like weeks," Mimi insisted. She found a moss-covered log and sat there. She gave a great sigh of relief and began untying her sandals.

Kimika again smiled, and then looked around her surroundings. It was another jungle, not much to her surprise. The only difference with this jungle was that it was in the Western Region, not in the Eastern Region. Akemimon had mentioned to her and Mimi that the Western Region was believed to be the shadow lands of North and South America. The northern part, called as Primer, was full of jungles and forests while the southern part, Cipher, was mountainous with few places of plains and swamps. Akemimon thought that the Guardian of the Western Region was more likely to dwell within the jungle, named the Giga Green, which was thought to be limitless in boundaries.

The jungle was sure thick, much like the jungle where the Digidestined were trapped with Frankie, the gigantic blue leaves blocking the sun, the climate humid and hot, instead of the strange winter weather in Server. 

"Looks like the forest where we lost our Digimon?" Mimi's thoughts broke in.

Kimika blinked in surprise, then nodded, looking around. "Sure, it does." She looked up to the blinking sunlight. "It feels like yesterday."

"And . . . we were very glad to have you three back. I thought we might lose you forever."

Kimika heard the concern and worry in Mimi's voice, real as if she witnessed the loss just now. She went to sit by the green-clad girl and cast her a gentle smile. "I don't think we will ever fall apart. We are too close to let that happen."

Mimi lowered her gaze, then leaned forward, her eyes hopeful. " . . . can you promise that?"

The Seer remained silent, watching back, waiting for her to finish.

"Can we promise that we won't leave each other?"

She watched Mimi unconsciously smoothing her wrap-skirt, her pretty face a light grimace, and then she rested her gloved hands over hers. "We won't leave you." Mimi looked back, still uncertain. Kimika again smiled. "Petal, you can tell me how you feel about this."

Mimi made a knowing chuckle. "You're the best listener around here." Her fingers entwined, her gaze on them. "I just feel afraid. Afraid that our efforts to stop Daematermon will mean nothing."

The black-haired girl lightly frowned. "I'm surprised that you would think that way."

She then regretted to have her voice sounding disapproving as Mimi looked up, hurt. "But, Kim, I didn't mean to . . ."

Kimika patted her hand, giving an understanding smile. "I do understand how you feel. I want to know _why _you feel that way."

" . . . Well, we're basically doing nothing, running in circles. We go see the Holy Beasts and try to fix our crests. The Digimon are trying to find Gennai for answers, but I don't think he would show up . . ." She exhaled, wrapping her arms around her chest, as if she was afraid to feel something wrong. "We don't even know how to stop Vampdevimon and Daematermon. We're stuck."

Kimika turned, pulling up a leg to lean on, eying the honey-haired gal. "Do you really think that we will lose to her or that we might have a chance?"

"A chance, yes, but I don't see it."           

"Perhaps it is because it's not here yet."

Mimi's face then broke into a proud grin. "Wish I have a piece of your faith, Moon."

"My faith is part of yours, Mimi," Kimika said. "We share it."

"Really?"

The Seer grinned with a twinkle in her eyes. "Oh, where is the girl with the cheeky exposition, who dared to face down an ugly monster, who brushed dirt off her favorite dress and moved on? Where is the Mimi I've grown up with?"

"Well, she's sitting here, waiting to hear more praise," Mimi giggled, not so coyly.

Kimika laughed and took on the younger girl's hands, tugging her. "You will get more if you move."

The Guide groaned, but didn't move from her seat, her hazel gaze puppy-eyed.

Kimika became solemn. "The sooner we find Baihumon, the sooner we get the chance to stop Daematermon."

Mimi's face changed into the faintly concerned visage, and she nodded. "Right."

The two girls continued walking. Mimi had stopped complaining, remembering her duty, and Kimika simply watched the surroundings for any danger. She only hoped that they wouldn't see any danger. The girls weren't fighters. Oh, Kimika can fight quite well, and Mimi can attack like a cat when cornered, but neither of them had the heart to face any danger and boldly battle it. Plus, Kimika knew that they can't waste any time battling, not when the crests were needed to mend. Healing the crests was important at this moment, and Kimika wished that she and Mimi didn't get any threat.

Her wish didn't come true. After several minutes of walking, Kimika abruptly got the eerie feeling that she feared to perceive. The taint wasn't near, but it was there, nevertheless, feeling like insects underneath her skin. She couldn't stop from shuddering. The taint was like a heartbeat; Jyou had called it the heartbeat of the evil. Strangely, it beat like any normal heart, but with the heavy foulness and filth around it. The only vision she could see of the heartbeat was a small black heart sitting beside her own heart, altogether beating. She could tell which one was the taint's heartbeat; the black heart thumped heavily, as like it was a weight inside her chest. Also, her left wrist began to bite painfully, aching agonizingly. She slapped her other hand around the wrist, tying to ignore the itches. Kimika glared around, trying to see the darkness, but not even her Light Power could help her see anything. Her vision was still blurred, due to the odd changes of the Digiworld. 

She then heard a hurt groan from Mimi and she quickly turned around, her heart rapidly beating. She only saw Mimi standing in place, her mouth covered with her hands, her eyes misting, as she gazed up to the leaves. The leaves! When the girls first arrived to the Giga Green, the leaves were dark blue, soft and cool, but even at this moment, Kimika could see the blackness creeping from the tips of the leaves toward the stems. The leaves were turning black, just like the leaves at Destiny Island.

"Oh, no, it's happening," Mimi moaned, then turned to her. "We have to find Baihumon soon!"

Mimi's fright was almost contagious, and Kimika tried to cast it away. She held on the girl's shoulders and asked gently, "Do you remember how to find her?" 

Mimi tried to think. "Um . . . oh, I can't remember!"

Kimika exhaled, trying to remember, too. Gennai had told the girls how to find Baihumon if their Shields were in danger. Something about listening to the leaves . . . Oh, she should've remembered it carefully! She never thought that such a situation like this would happen. She thought the Shields were completely secure. "I think Gennai said we need to listen to the leaves . . ."

The Guide gave her a horrified gaze. "Kim, I can't . . . I can't feel the essences. The leaves are dead!"

She grimaced, then realized. "Maybe . . . that explains it . . ."

"What?"

"Maybe we're where we're supposed to be. Maybe the leaves aren't supposed to say anything, and we could find Baihumon here."

Mimi shook her head. "I don't get it . . ."

"Oh, never mind this!"

The girls jumped, startled, at the booming voice. A massive tiger walked in from the dark jungles. She was so silent that Kimika was astonished at how she missed the shiny white fur with her sight. The Earth Tiger's fur was as white as snow with green stripes shaped as lightning bolts all over. She carried spiky armor plates that were polished silver, covering her paws, back, and shoulders, several tiny Digicore spinning around her neck. On her head, three horns protruded out, spiral and silver-colored. Her size was so large that she seemed larger than Rianmon, the shoulders a couple of heads taller than Kimika. Kimika tensed, thought she sensed the taint in the Tiger, but the taint wasn't in her.

Her sapphire blue eyes fixed on the girls, as stern as the earth. Her voice was like grating rocks, as well. "I never stomach those silly riddles. What waste of precious time when you have none."

Mimi's eyes widened. "We have no time?"

The Tiger's sharp face smoothly changed into a visage of light regret. "Pardon my harsh words. You do have time, but not much." She moved closer, slowly, not to scare the girls. "The Final Battle is nearing and I refuse to waste my time on silly riddles!" Then her gaze turned to Kimika. "You don't need to come with us. Your Shield is safe."

"I know that, Baihumon," Kimika said quietly, feeling that she didn't need to add more words to convince her.

Mimi, however, insisted to Baihumon, "But can she come with us? I feel safe with her around."

Baihumon grinned, revealing two long fangs that almost curled out from under her top lips. "And you don't feel safe around me?"

Mimi remarked her massive size and was startled again, this time with acknowledgment. "Oh, Baihumon, I didn't meant that!" She smiled sheepishly.

The Tiger chuckled, and strangely, it sounded like rocks falling on each other. It was obvious that she was named the Earth Tiger. "I take no offense." She then grew serious, her eyes again hard as stone. She then laid down beside them. "However, we must hurry. Mount and hang on tight."

The Guide glanced at the Seer with uncertainty, but Kimika encouragingly smiled. If Baihumon was willing to take them to where the crests were quickly, it was good enough for her. She expertly mounted up, using handfuls of furs to pull herself up. The back was so wide that it felt like sitting on a dining table. It wasn't the same with Rianmon's slim back. She helped Mimi taking a seat behind her. Mimi quickly wrapped her arms around Kimika's waist as Baihumon dashed into a powerful sprint. The trees went in a blur, the bounces of the run soft and smooth. Kimika had no idea how far Baihumon had ran, but the taint had faded away. She was glad to have the heartbeat gone.

After a few moments, Baihumon slowed down into a walk. She wasn't even out of breath. As Kimika looked around the surroundings, she saw that the leaves weren't black this time, but they weren't dark blue, either. They appeared to become more green as Baihumon moved on. Soon, Kimika felt a strange peace in the air, a serenity that wasn't disturbed even when they entered. Then Kimika regarded a beautiful sight; an Earth tree standing in the middle of the surroundings, so mighty and magnificent that Kimika and Mimi watched on in respected silence. The tree was so gigantic that it stood taller than any of the trees, the top unseen. The leaves were light green with hints of yellow, the bark dark brown-grey. The tree seemed to be ancient, perhaps thousands of years.

Baihumon stopped near the tree and let the girls dismount.

"An oak tree . . ." Mimi murmured in awe as Kimika landed beside her. "The Mother of all trees. I never thought there would be a tree here from Earth."

"Perhaps that's why it's special," Kimika said in agreement, liking the peaceful air around the tree.

Baihumon nodded in pride. "And this's where you will find your crest, Guide." A grimace came across her face. "My only hope is that it's not broken."        

Kimika's face lightly frowned with dislike; she knew that the crests were broken, and she didn't need to be reminded, nor needed to hear the commonly dreadful voice that were in almost every Digimon she met. It was like the Digimon were making this corruption, this Final Battle a big deal. She silently rested a reassuring hand upon the distraught Mimi's hand as she voiced, "Broken?"

"Guide, your Shield is destroyed," the Tiger mentioned. "It's possible that your crest might be broken because of it."

"But I thought our crests are dead because we've got our powers . . ." Mimi questioned.

But Baihumon didn't offer the answer. She merely shrugged, sat down on her haunches. Kimika noticed a small globe floating from around Baihumon's neck, glowing with a pale green color. A Digicore, she realized, but a different kind of Digicore. The Digicore silently glided toward Mimi, and her face dawned with comprehension. Holding the globe firmly in her hands, she turned to Kimika, her face bathed in the green light. "I won't be long, Kim."

Kimika gave her a smile of encouragement. She watched as Mimi stepped to the tree. Mimi didn't stop there; she seemed to know what to do as she smoothly vanished into the tree. A hiding tree. She heard faint footsteps fading away, moving downward, and she realized that the tree might be the door to downstairs. She mentally hoped that Mimi would be strong enough to see her broken crest and heal it without breaking down in tears.

"You seem uneasy, Seer."           

Kimika's brown gaze shifted over to Baihumon. Baihumon has sat down, her front paws crossed, her sharp eyes on the girl. She seemed so calm that Kimika wondered if she ever knew about the occurrences. Sure, she would know, but did she? Baihumon appeared to know what she was thinking about. Kimika softly sighed and walked over to her, staying clear of the spiky armor. "You might think this's silly, but ever since I got here, I feel darkness . . . can you feel it?"

Baihumon's tail wagged at the tip, stating her discomposure. "Seer, as the Western Guardian, I'm bound to feel any pain, any corruption that taints my region." Her head turned toward where Kimika had felt the taint, her lips pulled back to show smaller fangs. "I feel it, beating along with my heart."

Kimika didn't act surprised to Baihumon's similar feelings. Instead, she asked, "You know our stories, don't you, the stories when we got trapped here?"

"Your stories aren't a mystery to us. Your stories, we live through with you."

If that was true . . . "Then you might know that I feel it, too. Joe and Izzy, too. Why is that we feel the taint?" She resisted to itch at her left wrist. Every time she thought about the taint, her wrist ached. She didn't understand why.

Baihumon was shaking her head. "You aren't the only ones. Amayamon feels it, too." Kimika frowned in puzzlement and the Tiger continued, "Like you, she was tainted. You were marked by Daematermon."

A buzz of memories flew past, trying to find a flash of the dreadful Daematermon, her girlish face, and Kimika murmured in disagreement, "I don't recall meeting Daematermon before."

"You have, though she was in another form. She possessed Amayamon when she was a disembodied shadow and used her to mark you."

_A Medawmon attacking her on her right shoulder . . . an ugly scar shaped as a 'V' . . . A shadow that was ripped apart from Amayamon . . ._ It was so obvious . . . "So Daematermon _was _the shadow . . ." Kimika murmured, then frowned. "Wait a minute, what do you mean I'm tainted? How?" She didn't understand what did that mean, being tainted. She knew she can _sense _the taint, but being tainted . . .?

"Daematermon. She touched you all, you three and Amayamon."

Again, her left wrist ached and Kimika glanced down to it. Realization came in her face. If Daematermon did possess Amayamon . . . did she . . .? She merely pointed to her wrist. "You mean she's the one who gave us these holes?" She knew that she was told not to show the holes to anybody, but if she would find the reason of the holes, it would help her and the rest greatly! They would be able to heal the wounds correctly.

To her astonishment, Baihumon was suddenly uncertain, her eyes slightly wide, her paws stiff on the ground. "Holes?"

The grey-clad girl pulled off her red glove, then swiftly unwrapped the strips from her wrist. The strips were still damp, here and there was a dried spot of liquid silver. As the last of the strips was removed, she silently showed the wounds to Baihumon. The bleeding has stopped, but there was a silver-colored stain around the tiny two holes at where the veins were. The holes looked much like a snake's bite, only bigger and almost unseen, despite the size. The holes were supposed to be closed, but after four years, they were still open.

Baihumon gave out a shocked snarl and abruptly stepped back, her eyes fixed right on the wounds. Her white fur visibly stood in frightened fury. Kimika was so startled at the sudden movements that she dropped down to her rear, staring back in bewilderment.

"By the Digi, is the Daemon Mother truly mad?" Baihumon growled. Her eyes gave no concern or comfort, nothing but fury. "From what I see on you, the Daemon Mother used the Forbidden Attack, Life Leech." She again growled, stamping a paw. Kimika flinched at the shockwave. "How stupid of her! No Digimon is insane enough to summon it. Life Leech sucks everything out of you, your blood, your soul, your very life. You are forever tainted, feeling the darkness, will never be complete. You will never be the same, for she marked you."

Her heart began pulsating in anxiety. "Forever . . .?" Kimika whispered.

Baihumon seemed to notice her for the first time, and her face again shifted back to penitence. "When will I ever learn to soften my words?" She laid back, circling her large paws around the girl to provide consolation. "I'm sorry, Seer. My words are often harsh and I don't think twice before saying them."

" . . . But these are true?" Kimika questioned with solemnity.

" . . . Yes, child."

She bit on her lower lip, trying to envision what could've happened to her if she didn't get the wounds healed soon. She wanted to get rid of the awful taint, the corruption that felt much like dirt under her skin, making her feel unholy somehow. She rested her hands on the paws, attempting to find comfort, and failed. She peered down to her wounds, which were still seeping. " . . . Why did she use it on us?"

She felt a forepaw resting lightly on her back and the earthy voice saying, "She must have a reason, but no matter what the reason is, it's very stupid for anybody, even her, to use it. Especially on humans."

Kimika looked up to Baihumon, only seeing pity in her blue eyes, mixed with barely controlled fury. "How bad?"

Baihumon cocked her head. "I don't know for sure. Life Leech drains data from Digimon, deleting them completely and without a chance for them to reboot their data. In turn, the attacker sucks in a bit of data from the victims, changing its data wrongly, mutating it. With humans . . . humans are not data, am I right?"

Kimika was perplexed. She thought that Koushiro mentioned whenever any of the kids was in the Digiworld, their bodies changed into data, making it possible for them to exist inside the world. "But we're data here, right?"

"But there is a hint of flesh in you. You can't be all data or you will lose your humanity. Likewise with Digimon when they're in your world."

"So what happens to humans if Life Leech touches them?" She touched the silver blood and felt the iciness from it, not as warm as normal blood.

"As I said, they are wrongly changed. Mutated, and the attacker is mutated, as well."

She thought of Jyou, Koushiro, and now Amayamon and wondered how changed they were. She knew that Jyou acted odd ever since he was 'tainted'. He was more susceptible to temper and cynicism, but Kimika thought it was just because of his hardships. She thought the same when she noticed Koushiro becoming more pugnacious and she becoming bold. Now she wasn't sure, seeing how the sensation of the taint truly changed them. Jyou had became dark in mood, Koushiro seemed to want to snap at someone, even wanting to hurt, and she . . . she knew she was becoming more grouchy, although, she didn't showed much.

She then thought about Daematermon. She wondered how much she was changed, too. Was Daematermon really the same as before? Was her present body even similar to her first body? If she used Life Leech on them, maybe she was tainted, too . . . Kimika looked back to Baihumon. "Three of us are tainted . . . that makes Daematermon not completely digital, either . . ."

"Yes."

She frowned. She and the boys were humans. Daematermon was a Digimon. "How could it be different?"

"She isn't satisfied, I would say," Baihumon said, glowering. "She feels she needs to something to feel complete."

"The Crest of Heart . . ." she murmured, remember the scene between Daematermon and poor Cleo. "She wants it."

Baihumon remained silent, remained glowering, then glanced back. "Don't you think there might be more to it?"

_More to it?_Kimika didn't know the answer, still confused with everything right now. She only stayed quiet, trying to think how to answer back, when she was suddenly struck by the sensation of the taint. She was so absorbed with Baihumon's talk that she almost didn't feel the heartbeat until it was near enough to cast the foul scent. Kimika fought to withstand from vomiting at the smell. The foulness was faint, but it was near, and the foulness was like a black, oily fog floating around her. It smelt slightly different from Vampdevimon's taint, which was more powerful and musky. This foulness was smelling oddly like dead flowers.

Soon, she then heard soft rustling. But it wasn't as quiet. It sounded like someone was rushing through branches and leaves. "What's that?" she voiced.

Baihumon abruptly hushed her, lightly tightening her protective paws around her, her sapphire eyes focused on a spot in the jungle. Fearing that it might be one of the viral Digimon, Kimika summoned on her Light Power. She felt a brisk energy coming through her body as her power created a kind of illusion that camouflaged the Tiger and girl. Kimika carefully used her ability to change the reality, strongly believing that she and Baihumon were merely a part of the background. A second later, the bodies turned green, blue, and brown, mingling perfectly into the background. They then stayed silent, careful not to make a noise. If one of them makes a noise, the illusion will be lost.

A few minutes later, someone burst out, leaves and broken branches flying along. Kimika stiffened in horror as she saw a Flower Digimon - a Blossomon shuffling in. The frightening thing about Blossomon was that she had turned viral. Instead of the yellow-white petals around her head and bud-hands, the petals were polished black, exactly the same as the leaves on the trees. The vines and stems were dark blue with red veins streaming upon the surface. The wide red eyes were glowing, the pupils darting around insanely. Her mouth gaped, the blue tongue looping out. Saliva dripped heavily from the mouth, and the vines constantly twitched, as if were itching. Kimika could feel the taint right inside her, smell the faint foulness fuming from her.

The Blossomon's eyes twirled around and somehow noticed the camouflaged Baihumon and Kimika. She gave out a hollow roar that was half-strangled. Kimika couldn't stop herself from yelling in alarm as Blossomon charged toward them. Baihumon abruptly stood up, but not either charging forward or dodging. Instead, she stood stiff, like stone. Her spiky armor was just enough to halt Blossomon from charging any further. Kimika had to dash out of the way as Blossomon crashed into Baihumon, the force sending both skidding a bit back.

Kimika rolled and leaped to avoid the twitching vines and snapping buds. Baihumon jerked her head forward to bite on one of the vines, spraying blood. The Blossomon screamed and could have bit back, but Baihumon quickly used her hind legs to kick her away. As the Blossomon whammed back into a tree, Kimika stood up and pointed her hands toward her. Through the four years, all the Old Kids trained themselves to use their powers for offense and defense equally. Kimika found a weapon that later became one of her favorites. Her hands glowed dark red and silver, and she shoot laser beams. The Blossomon hollered, trying to shield herself from the tearing laser beams.

A bud shot for her, its mouth wide open, and Kimika went into a back flip to duck under the incoming vine. She then fired another beam to tear off the bud. She flinched at the painful roar of the Blossomon, but she knew it was necessary. There was something wrong with her, and it was up to Kimika to find what was the matter. Even if the only chance to stop her was to delete her. 

"Seer! Stay out of this!" Baihumon ordered, then gasped in total surprise as the Blossomon abruptly charged at her. The Blossomon's vine-legs aimed a kick that nearly knocked the Tiger out cold. Baihumon groaned, but didn't move. The Blossomon snapped open her mouth to take a large bite, but the grey-clad girl hastened in front. Her hands went up, spreading out, and suddenly, the Blossomon's eyes went blind. Glaringly white light dazzled from the hands. The light had an unique force that caused the Blossomon to shield her blind eyes, shuffling backward, unable to physically face the light.

_'Blossomon is too strong . . .'  Kimika_ clenched at her efforts. _'The taint?'_ Quickly, as she halted her blind light, she conjured an image of Baihumon to surround her while she used the power to change the unconscious Baihumon into an image of the unconscious girl. _'Blossomon must be obsessed with destroying Baihumon . . . I must keep her away.'_ She dashed a bit away from Baihumon, waited until Blossomon gained her sight. The Blossomon growled in raged surprise, then charged toward the Baihumon illusion.

Gathering the sunlight around her, Kimika dropped the camouflage and yelled, _"Reflection of Shadow!" _The silver beam with the black spirals burst into action, crashing into the Blossomon's chest. The beam didn't make a sound, but the agonizing howl from the Flower Digimon was enough for her to know that her beam had made a strike. Kimika stood still, carefully watching the unmoving Digimon.

Suddenly, the Blossomon recovered, a darkened spot on her chest the only result of her attack. _Too strong!_ Kimika's mind gyrated into action and swiftly, her other power - Shadow - came to her command. Shadows cast by the sun leaped in front of her, gaining mass, budging and swelling. The shadow raised up to the Blossomon's height and took in details. The blackness had become the shadow image of the Blossomon, its vines and face exactly the same to the viral Blossomon. The Blossomon looked truly shocked, and then growled in rage, her vines thrusting for the Shadow Blossomon. The Shadow merely reflected the attacks, its vines merely casting away the thrusts. The Shadow leaped backward, its goal to keep the Blossomon away from both the girl and the Tiger. Kimika watched them keenly, having to control the dark twin to imitate the attacks of the Blossomon. 

Then she saw it. The pleading in the red eyes. Kimika was startled to see that. Even though that the Blossomon was focused on battling, she appeared to think of something else. It showed in her eyes. For an instant, Kimika's feelings were psychically bonded with the Blossomon's feelings. She could hear the Digimon's thoughts, wildly and tearful. _'Killkillkillmekillmekillmememe . . .'_ She wanted to die . . . She didn't want to be like this . . . She was in pain . . .

Kimika felt her heart tearing at the dark heartbeat of the taint from inside the Blossomon's body, _feeling _it gnawing on her, feeling the pain all over. It happened only for an instant, but Kimika lost her control as she recoiled at the sensation. The Blossomon attempted to spit out her energy attack toward the Shadow. A strike and the Shadow exploded into bits, faded in the sunlight. Her fury aflame, the Blossomon searched for an unfortunate prey in her sight and caught a glimpse of the girl. Wasting no time, the Blossomon lunged at the alarmed girl. _'Killmekillme . . .'_

Abruptly, the earth rolled, cracks forming in the ground. The force of the roll pushed Kimika off the ground, appearing to get her out of the way. Kimika rolled forward to soften the fall, and turned around, tensed for another attack. Instead, she only saw the Blossomon entangled by dark green vines. The Flower was irked at the sudden change of luck, and she struggled helplessly against the holds.

_Mimi!_ Kimika's gaze darted at the oak tree, and she saw the younger Digidestined dashing for her. She was yelling out her name, waving. The Blossomon had noticed her, and her eyes flashed in madness. She freed one of the buds and aimed it toward Mimi. Mimi froze in alarm, then Kimika was there, pushing her beside with her arms. The bud crashed into the nearby ground and Kimika sheltered Mimi with her body. She then fired another light beam that knocked the bud off the vine.

They heard an upset growl, and Baihumon was bracing for an attack. Her fangs were bared, and Kimika could see a pale blue glow coming out from between the fangs, the source inside the throat_. "Vajira!"_ Baihumon challenged, and her mouth opened to reveal a huge light globe, which was fired out, and crashed right in the Blossomon. The Flower Digimon was enveloped with the blue energy, then digital pixels were the only remains.

Mimi was already tearful as she glared over to the Tiger. "Baihumon! You don't have to kill her!"

But Baihumon didn't answer back. She remained unmoving, her gaze darkened as she looked down at something. Kimika went to her side and saw a strange-looking ball in the place of the former Blossomon. It was tiny, small enough to fit in her palm, all black and as smooth as a marble ball. Kimika cowered at the sight. Something about it . . . she thought that it was shining, but later, she knew that it was actually _sucking in_ light, somewhat burning white light into dark light. Around it, the grass and fallen leaves has turned brown-yellow and dried up. The ball has sucked in life and all it remained was a circle of browned plants nestled around it. 

"Isn't that . . . ?" Mimi voiced in curiosity, stepping closer. 

Kimika stopped her with a hand on her arm. She didn't trust the feeling of the ball. She could sense the taint in it. "A virus," she replied. "Iyumon told me. She was infected, like Cyberdramon."

Mimi did know about the battle with an infected Cyberdramon that activated Elecmon's Ultimate digivolution and the light from Cleo's crest. Her wet hazel eyes widened. "I never knew that viruses could be like this."

"Maybe they could be like this in the Digiworld." The ball gave out a weird, hurt moan before it vanished into pixels. Kimika no longer felt the heartbeat. But the circle of dead grass remained. It was like a spot of death in the middle of the jungle of life.

Baihumon shook her head, sitting down, scowling. "I fear for this to happen. Daematermon is spreading her viruses. We aren't safe anymore."

"It happened before?" Mimi questioned.

"Before the First Battle, when Daematermon was driven mad with her new power and spread viruses of her making. Almost half of the Digiworld's population fell victim to it, the corruption driving them mad, and in the end, destroyed, gnawed inside out." The Tiger's body shuddered with remembrance. "I was very fortunate to escape the poison."

"How horrible . . ." Mimi knelt and gingerly touched a dead grass. "Poor Blossomon."

"I'm sorry, Guide, but the only way she can be free from the corruption is to end her life."

The green-streaked honey-haired girl nodded. "I know . . . she'd be grateful for that."

Kimika remembered the pleading and pain in the red eyes. The Blossomon did want to die, to be free from the poison. She took a gaze to the dead plants and looked up to Baihumon. "Baihumon, do you think that Daematermon might actually plan to destroy our worlds?"

"I don't know, Seer," Baihumon admitted. "I really don't know what plans she has for us."

Mimi stood up and turned to Kimika with worried puzzlement. "But, Kim, all she wants is the Crest of Heart, isn't that right?"

"Yes, but . . ." Kimika again looked down to the dead circle. "I wonder what will she do to get it . . ."

***

He felt her arms tightening around his neck and he knew that she was seeking his comfort and affection. She was still troubled about the Battle and how to keep faith in the darkest moments. He let her place her chin on his shoulder, feeling the warmth from her cheek resting against his, and waited until she spoke.

"Do you think that the children will sacrifice themselves for the worlds?"

He gingerly touched her wide sky-blue sleeves with thought. "Why won't you ask them yourself?"

The embrace stiffened. "What? No, I shouldn't -"

"I didn't say you should." He removed her arms and led her to sit down beside him, she facing him. "I'm not the best person to ask. I don't know them that well. Besides, why do you want to know?"

" . . . I don't know why. I don't know if they're brave enough to sacrifice -"

His sudden chuckles stopped her, her cheeks reddening. She can get easily offended. "Why are you laughing, Oikawa Yukio?"

He affectionately touched her face. "Oh, Seijamon, haven't you watched them through their journeys and listened to their hearts as they fought for creatures they'd never dream to meet? Haven't you even spoken to them and showed the history that began destiny? Haven't you lived through the same lives they've lead?" When she didn't answer, the scowl fading, he persisted, "Think about it, soul mate. After all the dangers, hardships, strengths they've lived through, you don't think they would sacrifice themselves for the good of the worlds?"

" . . . I didn't mean to sound that way."

He grinned, shaking his head. "I know you didn't. You know, for an angel, you sure have a lot of doubt."

She giggled embarrassedly. "Sorry, Yukio. I'm just wondering."

"If you want answers, ask them."

She silently looked over to the little cottage miles away, hesitating to ask and yet wanting to ask.

***

Tall metal skyscrapers stood gigantically against each other, forming a metal fence standing along the streets and roads. There were nothing to see but buildings, buildings, and buildings. Occasionally, there were few smaller buildings that could be hospitals, clubs, churches, and stores, but the main dwellers of the city appeared to be these skyscrapers. The city looked almost exactly like Tokyo. Above the sky scrapers, there was a kind of dome that looked like a cage, a metal circled structure in the darkening sky, connected with arches that surrounded the entire city, built with thick glass. Underneath the streets, there was the sound of gears quietly gyrating, forming a metal melody to anybody who listened.

The Machine City.

Taichi stood in the middle of an empty street, his neck craned back to take in the sights of the skyscrapers' tops. He wondered with confusion about his crest's whereabouts. He knew that when he first gave up his crest to keep nature in balance, he had commanded the crest to go to where his element was. He thought that it would be inside a volcano or anywhere that contained fire. Strangely, he got the acknowledgment that it was resting in one of the Machine Cities. He was puzzled at that. The Machine City ran with electricity, which wasn't his element. He brought that up to his partner.

"Izzy, tell me why is that my crest is here, in a city surrounded by electricity when it makes sense that my crest should be surrounded by fire?"

The redhead merely smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "Ebonwumon must have a reason." Taichi recognized the changing tone in his voice as the lecturing tone and he groaned as Koushiro continued,  "Beside, electricity and fire are linked in nature. Lightning gives birth to fire and fire forms lightning." Koushiro shook his head as Taichi gave him a blank face. "Honestly, Tai, do you ever listen in school?"

The Master grinned. "Why should I when I have you lecturing me?"

"Uh-huh?" Koushiro arched an eyebrow. "Let's see if you will say that when you go to college."

"Just to make you feel special," Taichi said, patting on his shoulder.

The Warder rolled his eyes with mock disapproval. But as he averted away, Taichi glimpsed a faint smile on his lips. He was glad to see that. He hated to see one of his best friends in a depressing mood.

"Nice to see you acting mature," Taichi laughed. He remained standing, again looking at the buildings as Koushiro walked on down the street. "You know, this place sure looked a lot like the city where we faced Machinedramon."

"It's the same one."

Taichi looked over to Koushiro, who had stopped at the end of the street, his black eyes looking at a hidden building. "How could you know?"

Koushiro simply pointed at where he looked at and Taichi went to his side. Around the corner, there was a huge mansion, colored brown with hints of blue, standing in a yard. It did look like the house where Hikari had stayed in when she was struck with a fever. Taichi's heart sank with the memories. It was one of the difficult times he's lived through. He was worried to death over Hikari's illness, knowing that a mere fever could weaken her any further. Nothing of his friend's soothing words could help him. He was so persistent to find Hikari after the city collapsed that he expressed his worry and fear upon Koushiro as anger. To his surprise, Koushiro refused to fight back, quietly said that violence never solve anything. That was when he started to respect Koushiro seriously, marveled at his innate composure in the faces of danger. 

Taichi glanced to Koushiro. Koushiro didn't move, his black eyes on the house, as if he was remembering, too. Taichi wondered how did Koushiro really feel about the unnecessary punch in his face. Was he feeling angry or sad or even impassive at the pain? Taichi wanted to know how he felt, but Koushiro never personally told him. All he expressed was slightly bruised dignity that recovered as quick as the punch's land. 

Koushiro's gaze shifted back to him and the faint smile was there on his face, although Taichi thought he noticed the lips' corners twitch in remembrance. As Koushiro turned away to continue his walk, Taichi cleared his throat, trying to forget the memories. "We should've met some Digimon by now." He tried to remember the names of the Machine Digimon that could be living here. "Tankmon, Mechanorimon, Garbumon, Hochumon."

Koushiro slightly nodded in agreement. "It's a big city, Tai. They might be scattered somewhere."

Taichi's face darkened. "Or that the city is deserted."

Koushiro paused in his tracks and turned around, his face curious. "No body heat?"

Because of his Fire Power, it allowed him to sense any person and Digimon with body heat. Humans gave out a mucky heat of some kind and Digimon had an electrical heat. He was trying to sense any body heat beside his and Koushiro's to find any residents, but it was like he was sensing an ice cube. There was no heat. He sensed only the heat from the spinning gears underground, and that was it. He didn't like it.

"None," Taichi answered. "The city is as cold as Antarctica."

"Ah, so you _have _been listening in school." Koushiro grinned good-naturedly at Taichi's frown. He then crossed his arms, tilting his head. "How about this? I can access the network and find data on the residents here. I could even access Ebonwumon's data, too."

"Izzy, Izzy," Taichi chuckled, hanging a friendly arm around the redhead's shoulders, "What will I do without you?"

The smile became smug. "You'll be lost, as usual."

"Hey!" Taichi staggered in pain, clenching at his chest, then grinned as Koushiro finally formed a soft chuckle. "Where can you access the network?"

"The place where I will never see you in. A library."

"Aw, that's not fair that you can offend me that easily!"

Koushiro's face looked innocently surprised. "And that's a bad thing?"

"Why, you little - !" Laughing, the Master aimed a swipe at the Warder, who expertly dodged out of the way. Together, they joked and chased each other down a few streets. Taichi's heart rejoiced to hear Koushiro laughing once again. It was a rare event to hear Koushiro laugh and when he did, the laugh was deep and soft, unlike his still childlike voice. The laugh was hard to fake, and Taichi now knew that Koushiro was truly lightened in his mood. He thought that it was because Koushiro finally could _do _something, not just sitting in the cottage, darkly staring  at his sleeping girlfriend. He didn't need that. He did look almost happy to get out of the cottage, although it was difficult for him to leave her. Taichi wanted to make sure that he will stay happy so the darkness dwelling in his mind would go away.

Eventually, they found a library in one of the few open spaces of green. The library was huge, clearly big enough to hold a couple of public libraries. The entrance was easy; the doors weren't locked, and inside the lobby, everything was mostly empty, except for a wide counter sitting by a wall with a small computer on it. Taichi let Koushiro go to the computer and access it. He faintly listened to the rapid typing as he walked up to one of the large windows. More skyscrapers and a new sight that he didn't remember seeing last time. A metal tower that looked so close to the Eiffel Tower. 

A sudden memory came to him, the sight of a Gigadramon darting for the boys . . .

Taichi turned to the redhead. "Izzy, make sure not to get us captured like the last time."

"Ahead of you," Koushiro answered. "Don't worry." A while later, he grinned. "Ah, I found the data of Ebonwumon."

Taichi returned to the counter. "Is she here in the city?"

"It appears to be." He continued typing. "In . . . in this building."

The screen became a digital map that Taichi recalled from the last time. The map was full of lines and blocks that represented the entire Machine City. He saw a orange dot blinking frequently in the exact center of the City. Koushiro zoomed in the dot and a video clip popped out, revealing the Eiffel Tower look-alike that Taichi saw out the window.

"That's where we need to go," Koushiro suggested.

Taichi glanced over his shoulder, looking at the Tower through the window. "My crest is there, too?"

"Checking it now . . . oh, it's heavily encoded." Koushiro frowned, although there was a eager thrill in his eyes. "Almost improbable to hack through."

"Why is that?"

"Probably to prevent any hacker from getting your crest."

Taichi smiled proudly. "Ebonwumon is doing an excellent job."

As Koushiro typed some more, Taichi noticed a frown coming on the freckled face. "Hmm, it's odd."

"What's it?" Taichi suddenly felt a foreboding.

Koushiro gazed back with apprehension. "There's no data that states that other Digimon are living here."

"None? Are you sure?"

"None . . . like they do not exist within this city."

Taichi straightened up, carefully looking around the empty lobby, half-expecting to see a Digimon ramming in. "The City is really deserted . . ."                                              

Koushiro was silent, then his body slightly stiffened, like he was feeling something wrong. His eyes paled and he turned to him, appearing awkward. " . . . Tai, I don't like the feeling of this."

"What feeling?"

The brunette regarded the redhead's right hand attempting to move to his left wrist, and he wondered why. Koushiro exhaled. "Remember the darkness I felt?"

Taichi's eyes narrowed, then glanced around the room again. "Bad?"

The redhead only shrugged in uneasy silence. Taichi turned his head to look at the Tower. It didn't look that far from here. "We don't have much time left, anyway. We just find Ebonwumon, fix my crest, and then be on our way. Shouldn't have any difficulties."

Koushiro nodded in agreement, almost wanting to leave the City already. The teenagers headed outside and went in a direction heading for the Tower. The Tower was tall enough to see from the ground and the boys just followed the sight. As they got closer, Taichi noticed that Koushiro grew anxious, his face tightened in dislike of something. The darkness? He found it strange that out of all his friends, only Kimika, Koushiro, and Jyou can feel the darkness, muttering that they could sense a heartbeat within the blackness, the taint they spoke of. He did pressure Koushiro to tell him how one time, but Koushiro seemed to be silenced by some kind of oath and only can apologize but never told the reasons. Taichi didn't like the results, but hasn't pushed him any further.

As they got to an intersection, Koushiro suddenly grasped on Taichi's arm, almost yanking him off his footing. An instant later, Taichi heard the sound of metal footsteps stomping closer. A Digimon came in sight, all grey-metal with one glaring red eye in the center. A Mechanorimon, Taichi recognized. The Digimon didn't notice them at first, then the red eye darted toward them. 

A hollow voice spoke out, "Do not approach."

Taichi found it odd; he couldn't feel any heat from it. It was like the Mechanorimon was dead, operated by someone else.

"Identification requested," the Mechanorimon demanded.

Koushiro still had his hand on Taichi's arm, eying the Digimon with dislike. "Tai, be careful."

"It's alright," Taichi reassured, removing the hand, then turned to the Mechanorimon. "We're the Digidestined, the Master and Warder. We're here for - "

The Mechanorimon interpreted him with a rapid spinning of gears inside him. "Identification received, accessing . . . Identification acknowledged. Digidestined marked as invades. Please depart the area immediately or you will be shot on the spot."

The Master was startled at the words. "Hey, hey!" he protested. "We're not invaders!"

"Invaders acknowledged as hostile. Be prepared to be eliminated."

Taichi sweatdropped as the Mechanorimon's eye began to glow a darker red. He didn't believe what he was hearing! Invaders? Whatever happened to hospitality?

_"Twinkle Beam!"___

"I think he means business!" Koushiro yelled as Taichi ducked under a laser beam. Taichi mentally agreed as he ran after Koushiro into a side street, again recoiling at another laser beam, which struck the side of the building.

"Invaders are escaping! Shoot at sight!" the Mechanorimon screamed faintly behind them. 

Koushiro seemed to know what to do, sprinting through smaller streets and alleys to avoid any sight of possibly more Digimon. After a few turns, Koushiro disappeared into an empty alley and Taichi stopped there, panting from the shock of being shot at. He sank down to the ground, brushing through his hair. "It's deja vu all over again!"

Koushiro nodded, then inched to the corner, and peered out. He sighed in relief. "No one is there . . ."

Taichi scowled back. "Are you sure you found no data of the Digimon?"

Koushiro managed to look indignant. "Tai, I'm positive. No Digimon lives here except Ebonwumon. Positive."

Taichi tried to think other possible methods happening around here. " . . . Is there something else that the network doesn't know about? Someone that might control the Digimon?"

Koushiro sagged against the wall, his skin oddly pale, profoundly worried.

"Is it the darkness, Izzy? " Taichi asked softly.

"I don't know . . ." Koushiro admitted, his arms rubbing on each other. "I feel it everywhere, even in the Digimon."

That explained why Koushiro acted so fidgety. Taichi leaned his head back on the wall. "Then it's probably not Ebonwumon." He scowled. "Daematermon."

Koushiro meekly looked at him, then the oddness came on his face once again. Quickly, he peered out the alley. And this went so fast. First, he spun around, his hands going to clutch on Taichi's tabard, and yanked him up to his feet. A second later, he pulled Taichi along toward the other side, Koushiro's fear creeping up on him. Then, flames and pieces of metal exploded around them. Bombs! Bombs had struck at where they were seconds ago. Luckily, Taichi was immune to fire and so he pulled Koushiro down to the ground, using his body to shield him from the white-hot flames. But Taichi wasn't immune to metal and heavy hits, and soon, he was sore all over his body, ugly bruises forming. The rubble laid around him, and Taichi sat up, groaning at the sharp pain in his neck. Koushiro winced at a new burn on his upper right arm that wasn't shielded. Luckily, they weren't pierced or bleeding.

Koushiro abruptly looked up and Taichi whirled around to see three Digimon coming in. They were Tankmons, rust-brown Tank-like Digimon with cannons as their arms. The minute they saw the boys, they took aim. Taichi then felt Koushiro's body heat giving out great heat waves as he summoned a lightning wall, covering the street before them. The bombs exploded at the contact, spraying bits of metal, but the wall protected the boys.

Koushiro's sooty face turned to Taichi. "We have to fight our way out!"

"No, Izzy!" Taichi disagreed. They can't afford any more time to fight. Not right now. His crest needed to be healed soon. Besides, the Digimon were obviously controlled, and he wasn't going to delete them just because of that. Where was Andromon? He was supposed to be here to protect the Machine Digimon.

Koushiro scowled, an unlikely expression he had. "Give me a good reason why not!" 

His sudden fury caused his control to weaken the power. A bomb made through and landed near. Taichi quickly shielded in front of his friend, his back facing the explosions as inferno roared around them. He gasped as a tiny piece of metal punctured in the deltoid of his left shoulder. Taichi gritted his teeth at the pain, but ignored the bleeding as he pushed Koushiro out of the fire. Koushiro was singed, getting another burn on his cheek. The boys ran on, weaker than before because of the pain and burns. They ran around the corner and were again stopped by a Hochumon. The Hochumon was only a Rookie, but his electricity attack was strong enough to shock anybody into unconsciousness.

Taichi held on his arm, glaring at the small gear-shaped Digimon. "Gimme me a break!"

Then pain pulsated in his arm, making him gasping, as Koushiro held on his arms and wrapped them around his own neck. Taichi was momentarily bewildered as Koushiro held his waist to his back. "Hold on tight!" he ordered, and Taichi involuntarily did so. Koushiro slightly crouched as the Hochumon aimed.

Immediately, Taichi saw the ground going down way too fast away from him, his feet hanging in the air. Koushiro's feet met the side of the nearby building and rebounded off, just before bombs and electricity met the spot where he landed. Koushiro used his leg power to push himself toward the opposite-standing building. Again, he bounced off, and again he avoided the incoming attacks. Taichi forgot that Koushiro can leap very high. Taichi forced to shut his eyes tight to avoid vertigo, expressing bounces in his body, as Koushiro leaped upon the top. Koushiro didn't stop there, although. Bombs were shot at the first building as he hastily bound away on buildings. The explosions grew fainter as the boys escaped. Then Taichi got the sensation of air blowing past him as Koushiro landed through a top window. The glass wasn't harmful, blasted apart at the contact. As Koushiro landed, the boys rolled into stops, crashing against some objects that Taichi later noticed as office desks. As Taichi panted shakily, Koushiro ran to the broken window and listened for a moment.

Koushiro peeked out and nodded. "Ok, I think we're safe for now . . ."

Taichi's face was pale with his heart beating of fear. He still didn't get over his fright of heights. He shakily brushed glass bits out his hair and softly growled, "You . . . you could've . . . warned me . . . about the leaping."

Koushiro looked back, then he tried hard not to chortle. "Tai . . . your face . . ."

"That's not funny!" He snapped, using a desk to push himself up. Then he yelped in pain, his right hand reaching to clutch on his left shoulder. The sudden thumping pain caused him to lose strength in his legs and he slumped down.

"Tai!" Koushiro knelt by his side, peering at the wound. "Let me help." Taichi bit on his lower lip as Koushiro's fingers gingerly felt around the wound, and then he swallowed a yelp of pain when the redhead held on the piece. Suddenly, he hissed in a sharp breath as Koushiro yanked out the rugged metal. Koushiro folded a piece of Taichi's tabard and put it on the wound. "It's not bleeding much." He frowned down to the Master. "You shouldn't have to do that, protecting me from the inferno."

Taichi frowned back. "You'd gotten burned to death in that fire." Keeping his right hand to press on the wound, Taichi stood up with Koushiro's help. He looked around the room, saw that they were in a kind of office buildings. The room was creepily empty, with flat desks and office spaces, creepily silent. Taichi got the glance of the Tower through one of the windows. They were getting closer. "C'mon," he said, "We need to get to that tower." He headed for a door that led them downstairs.

"Wait, Tai!" he heard Koushiro calling as he followed after. "We can hide now, but we won't be safe for that long. The Digimon know how to find us, probably by the network, or a certain way that we don't know about. We have to fight to keep them away."

Taichi stopped and turned around in puzzlement. "What've gotten in you? You aren't the fighting type."

Koushiro leaned on the railing, looking down to Taichi from the top step. "Well, there's something that you haven't known about me, Tai-kun."

The older teen sighed and rested his back on the wall. "Alright, what do you suggest?"

"I believe it's not necessary for us to find Ebonwumon altogether. I can draw the Digimon away and you can go locate her without any distraction."

Taichi was surprised to see the battle fire in the black eyes. Koushiro, who refused to personally fight, was looking forward for a battle? Taichi fiercely shook his head, not wanting to see Koushiro getting hurt or even dying. "That's crazy, Izzy." He continued downstairs.

"Why? Why is that crazy?" Koushiro boldly demanded.

" I won't let you risk your life like that! I don't want you to get hurt."

"Sooner or later, I will have to fight!"

"No, Koushiro. No."

He heard the footsteps stopping, then his voice, full of hurt dignity, spoke, "It's just like the battle with Piedmon."

Taichi abruptly stopped in his tracks, frozen. Where did he hear those words . . .? 

_'Remember, Tai-kun,' he'd said with this dark calmness and yet with controlled fury. 'When you won't let me fight during the battle with Piedmon? Why, Taichi?'_

Taichi was startled, remembering the moment he'd witnessed Koushiro attacking and telling those words that wounded him deeply. Piedmon . . . he remembered that Koushiro was upset with him for not letting him fight. He was surprised that this vivid memory popped in his mind, and he was surprised that Koushiro still remembered that. He turned to the redhead with astonishment.

Koushiro looked oddly angry and hurt, his eyes strained with some emotion. His hands were clenched into fists, slightly shaking, and his teeth was gritted. He continued, "You never let me fight . . . All I wanted to do was to help you, protect you. And you never let me prove that I can fight . . ." His face darkened. "Why didn't you let me fight?"

Taichi opened his mouth, trying to say something, but hearing those words silenced him. He felt his heart tearing to see Koushiro angry.

"Is that because I'm a kid?" Koushiro walked down to him, his head barely reaching to Taichi's chin. But the way he glared made the brunette feel meek. "I remembered what I said, and I meant it. Why?"

Taichi closed his mouth and lowered his gaze. He didn't know what to say.

Koushiro tightened his lips, then averted his head away, sighed. "Just tell me what you told Matt back then."

Taichi wasn't surprised at that. He knew that Koushiro was the Warder and he can remember the kids' memories. The memory of him telling Yamato the truth and . . . Taichi never got around admitting the truth to Koushiro. If Koushiro was still that angry over this for four years . . . No wonder . . . Taichi gazed back to Koushiro, who didn't look back. "If you know what I said, then it's not necessary for me to say it again."

Koushiro whirled back, pleading in his eyes. "Yes! It does! I need to hear that from you."

Taichi felt the urge to place his arm around the boy's shoulders in comfort, but stopped. Koushiro would think differently, would react wrongly to the gesture. Gingerly running his left hand through his hair, he murmured, "I don't want you to get hurt . . . That time, when . . . I lost Matt, Joe, and Mimi . . . I couldn't bear the fact that I might lose you, Kim, and Kari to Piedmon." He managed to give him a proud smile. "You were a great friend, and I didn't want to lose you. I still don't want to lose you."

The Warder gazed back, musing over the words, then shook his head unhappily. He stepped around Taichi and walked down. After a minute, Taichi followed.

"Were you really that mad at me? Still now?" All he got from Koushiro was strained silence. "I . . . I never knew you feel that way."

"I know you were considering my safety and I was very . . ." There was the sincere appreciation in his voice, "grateful for it . . ." Then he slammed the railing with a fist, glaring back. "But there was no reason for you to face that Piedmon alone! That's what we're here for! We stick together through thick and thin, fight together, and defend for each other. None of us will have to face danger alone."

" . . . "

"Taichi, when you laid there, hurt and . . ." The black eyes closed in pained remembrance. "I was afraid. Frightened that you might die . . . Kari might lose her brother; Kim might lose her best friend. I might lose a friend that I trust with my life . . . That's why I want to fight, so you might live another day." The black eyes opened, this time with fury. "And yes, I'm still angry." 

Taichi watched in silence as Koushiro disappeared downstairs. He exhaled, then went down slowly, musing over the sudden burst of his anger. How could he be so blind to Koushiro's persistence? It was true what Taichi said. He was too frightened to let anybody to fight that he was willing to give up his life so they can live. He never considered that his friends would do the same thing if he was in danger. He didn't realize how loyal his friends were to each other. He never realized that Koushiro would do the same. Koushiro was right . . . None of the Digidestined has to face danger alone . . . That's what friends are for . . .

Taichi arrived to the first floor. It was a room where security could be, what with the rolling counters and metal detectors. He noticed Koushiro standing by the double doors, scouting. He didn't look back to see if Taichi was here. Taichi silently sighed and walked toward a window nearby. He could see the Tower very close from there, maybe two blocks away. He wondered why didn't Koushiro go ahead and leap to the Tower earlier, and then realized that Koushiro did have his plan already ready for distraction. He wanted Taichi to go alone to the Tower safely. 

_'Izzy, you don't have to do that. . . ' _Taichi thought as he gazed toward Koushiro. Instantly, Koushiro ducked down and moved to a wall's safety. Taichi followed, hiding behind one of the counters. He heard gears rolling, and then he saw the shadow of a Tankmon moving across the sunlight, reflected on the clean floor. It was moving slowly, peering inside the building, but seeing no one, disappeared on its way.

Careful of his injured shoulder, Taichi went to Koushiro's side. Koushiro didn't even notice him, carefully listening. Taichi exhaled and whispered, "Izzy."

Koushiro kept on listening.

"It shouldn't take me long to get to the tower. You distract the Digimon as long as you can."

Now the redhead gazed over to him, looking cautious.

"You don't have to prove that you're a good fighter. I know you are." Taichi fixed a serious gaze at him. "Be careful."

Koushiro slowly nodded, still uncertain.

Taichi beamed with pride. "Do me proud."                        

Finally, Koushiro gave him a wide, grateful grin. He, still crouching, ran out the front door. Turning around, he put his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly. Taichi heard the sharp turn of the Tankmon and the voice yelling, "Invader, halt!" Later, an explosion was at where Koushiro was. Taichi grinned as the redhead was on a run. Tankmon followed, keeping on shooting. 

_'Good luck, Izzy,' _he thought as the Tankmon vanished out of the sight. He checked his shoulder and was glad that it stopped bleeding. He stepped outside, watching for any Digimon. He was alone. It was a good plan. He ran down the opposite way Koushiro had run from, toward the Tower. The digital Tower was as big as the real Tower, but Taichi remembered where the elevators were and he arrived to them. He pushed a button and gaped in disbelief as the elevator didn't move. _'What the . . .?'_ He tried all the buttons on all the three elevators. None of them moved.

"Stupid machines!" Taichi growled, kicking an elevator. How ironic was that the Machine City had all the machines and gadgets and thingamajimmys, and none of those damn technology worked?! He then glimpsed a stairway. _'Great, more running.'_He sprinted upstairs on the seemingly endless stairs. After several moments running around the balconies and up the stairs, he was stopped by a great heat erupting somewhere far. Whirling around, looking for the source, Taichi saw a familiar purple glow that went past the balcony, floating downward.

_'Izzy!'_ Taichi ran to the balcony and noticed that Koushiro was right at the base of the Tower, battling several Machine Digimon. Taichi marveled to see how skilled Koushiro was with his leaping ability. His body charged with the purple lightning, the redhead has landed on a Digimon's head. The minute his feet met the metal, lightning sparkled over the body, then the Digimon somewhat slowed and was silenced, unmoved.

_'Using his electricity to shut down the machines!__ Way to go!' _Taichi proudly grinned as he watched Koushiro continuing his plan to halt the Digimon. But his grin faded into a visage of horror as one of the remaining Digimon aimed a cannon. Koushiro tried to leap off in time, but the bomb exploded right in midair. Koushiro was hurled right in one of the columns of the Towers. There, he didn't move.

"Izzy!" Taichi yelled and he turned around to head to the stairs. But someone was there, stopping him. A gigantic bird with fire feathers floated in front of the stairs, her black eyes fixed on him. She was as large as Garurumon, but the addition of her feathers made her seem bigger than life. Here and there, he could see a glimpse of metal within the flames. Surprisingly, where the flames touched the Tower's metal, the metal didn't melt or become hotter. Still, Taichi stepped back, awed at the flaming body heat from her. 

The phoenix slightly shook her head and spoke, sounding like crackling wood. "Let him fight." She then turned around and headed for upstairs. "Follow me."

"Hey, wait!" Taichi called after the phoenix. He hurriedly peered down to see if Koushiro has escaped. He had, already casting a lightning orb to halt the offending Digimon into unconsciousness. Although, Koushiro seemed weaker than before, having to stop and take a breath. Taichi gritted his teeth, wanting to help him out, but then thought, _'Hang on there, pal,'_ before he followed the bird upstairs.

The balcony was much larger than the last one, empty except for several benches. The phoenix wasn't there, at all, but Taichi was too worried about Koushiro to search for her. Hastening to the balcony, he again looked. Oddly, Koushiro has disappeared somewhere. The Digimon were still there, suspended. Taichi wildly looked all around the scene, trying to get a glimpse of black, purple, or red. He then felt the body heat of the Holy Beast behind him, but he didn't regard her, kept on looking.

He heard the grin in the crackling voice. "You fear heights, and yet you're looking out from the _tall _tower." The drawl in the word 'tall' was playful.

Sweatdropping, Taichi blanched as he saw how high he was, much higher than when Koushiro lifted him earlier. His vision became blurred. "Ehh . . ." Eyes shut tight, he sank down to the floor, trying to inhale in a calming breath to ease his thumping heart. Guess he will never get over it. He rubbed his head and looked up to Ebonwumon. "Do you have to remind me that?"

Ebonwumon sat down near the balcony, but not too close to avoid touching him with her fire feathers. She folded her wings to her body and watched him with amusement. "It's my nature. I like to find flaws and see how you humans work. Humans are so funny."

"Glad that we amuse you," Taichi muttered as he stood up. "Now that I found you, I must go down and find Izzy." He headed for the stairs, but was once again stopped by Ebonwumon.

"You don't need to do that. He's alright and is doing fine." Taichi looked over to her. "You did a good thing to let him fight. Everybody needs an opportunity to prove themselves."

Taichi paused, looking down the stairs, thinking about finding Koushiro, but that would mean Koushiro would think that he still didn't trust him enough. He had seen the pride and pleading in the black eyes and he knew that Koushiro deserved this. Taichi sighed, then went to stand by Ebonwumon, peering up to her gaze. Changing the subject, he asked, "Ebonwumon, what's wrong with the Digimon?"

"Viral," Ebonwumon answered with a glower. "They're stricken by the Daemon Mother's viruses. She's too strong for me to keep the Digimon under control." She then nodded in pleasure. "Wisely, the Warder used electricity to shut the Machine Digimon's power down, not destroying them."

Taichi felt his chest expanding in pride of the redhead. He knew it. Koushiro can do it. Then Ebonwumon tilted her head, as if was listening. "He's here in the Tower."

This time, Ebonwumon let Taichi run downstairs. After running down a couple of floors, he found Koushiro laboriously taking a step at one time. Despite his singed appearance and unkempt hair, Koushiro was grinning with an energetic thrill. Taichi laughed as he clapped a hand on Koushiro's back. "You did great!"

Koushiro leaned on the railing, looking up to him with mild surprise. "You saw me?"

"You really did great. You're an excellent fighter." Taichi chuckled. "I'm sorry I doubted you. You proved me wrong."

Koushiro blinked, then smiled with pride. Suddenly, he collapsed down to the floor, the strength in his legs gone. 

"Izzy!" Taichi caught him in his arms, wincing at the pain in his shoulder. He was surprised to see Koushiro lightly laughing, putting his arm around his shoulder for support.

"Sorry, I'm just exhausted," he said as Taichi aided him to his feet. He staggered for a minute before found his footing. "I haven't used my power fully for a while. I'll be fine."

The brunette grimaced, shaking his head. "Don't lie to me. You sound too much like me."

The redhead chuckled softly. "That's what I get from hanging around with you."

Taichi glared over to the phoenix, who was chortling with delight, watching them from her perch at the balcony. He turned to his friend. "Nevertheless, I'm proud of you. I should've known about your determination."

Koushiro looked silently astonished. " . . . Really?"

"Oh, yeah! Izzy, you don't have to prove it to me, or all of us, that you can fight. Just do what you know what you can do. I trust you."

"You're really proud of me?"

Taichi heard the shyness and dignity in his voice. Koushiro sounded like he was being praised by an older brother. Taichi then wondered if Koushiro did look up to him as a younger brother. Why didn't he notice that until now? He began to feel the same pride as a big brother, and he gave Koushiro the brotherly grin and nodded.

Koushiro's cheeks slightly flushed, and his voice went soft. "Thanks . . . it does help."

"Don't make me cry, man!" Taichi protested, already feeling his throat contracting.

"You're definitely amusing," Ebonwumon was pleased.

Taichi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Come on, man." He carefully guided Koushiro's steps up the stairs, often pausing when he thought he heard a gasp of pain from Koushiro. Koushiro got rather annoyed with him and told him that he will be fine eventually. Finally, they arrived at the high balcony. Taichi helped Koushiro to sit down on the bench and again saw the flinch in his body.

"You're really beat-up!" It wasn't the singed appearance Taichi was worried about. Koushiro was very exhausted, already yawning and looking sleepy. He must've used his power a bit too much. "You should be more careful next time. You used your power too much."

Koushiro looked like he wanted to protest, then smiled honestly. ". . . It does feel good, actually. I didn't use my power that often lately."

The Master knew what he meant, remembering the thrill whenever he used his power. It was so long . . . "I know what you mean, but still . . ."

Koushiro only nodded in understanding. 

"Master . . ." Taichi turned his head to see Ebonwumon with a small orange-glowing globe floating beside her. A Digicore, he recognized. That's right . . . His crest needed to be healed soon . . . 

"Go ahead and heal your crest," his friend said.

He turned back to him. "Are you sure, man?"

Koushiro nodded. "I'll be fine."

Taichi grinned and ruffled the fiery red mane with the violet lock. Making sure Koushiro was resting, he went with Ebonwumon on the way to his crest. He felt a great pride coming over him and he knew that he was lucky to have a friend like Koushiro. He would do anything to protect him. He would.

***

He was still tired, but he felt refreshed, as well, Koushiro sat up from laying on the bench. The bench was too difficult to sleep on, but he was too exhausted to give it a second thought. He hit the sack by the minute his head met the cold metal. Koushiro yawned and blinked at the bright morning light. The buildings blocked most of the sunlight, but the sunlight was reflected off the glass dome, and so the sunlight was brighter than actually.

He rubbed his eyes and then chuckled as he saw the slumbering Taichi laying on the ground beside. As usual, Taichi would watch over him to make sure he was alright. He actually felt safe around the older boy, already seeing him as one of the big brothers he had. He was glad that he got to hear what Taichi admitted about not letting him fight. He finally understood. All the time, he thought that the older boys looked down at him as one of the kids, not strong enough to fight. He was relieved to ge,t this bottled frustration out.

Koushiro carefully stepped around the snoring boy and walked up the balcony. He felt bruises aching all over his body, gingerly touching his burns. But he was proud of them, saw them as battle scars. He leaned on the railing and looked down and around to see if he could sense the taint. The taint was gone when he shut down the Digimon yesterday. He hated the feeling, hated the itch and agony on his left wrist and hated it when he experienced the horrible heartbeat inside him. When he first sensed it again in the Machine City, he was panicked that the taint had found him again. Oddly, he sensed it in those Digimon and it was a good thing that Taichi let him try his plan to stop the Digimon. The taint was finally gone, and Koushiro was greatly relieved. But he still pondered at why the taint was in those Digimon.

"Have a good sleep, Warder?"

Koushiro again yawned and turned his head toward the coming Ebonwumon. She perched on the railing, close enough for him to feel heat upon his face. "Refreshed," he answered, then watched the streets. He couldn't see any movement, heard only silence. The City was dead again. "No Digimon are prowling."

Ebonwumon glanced down to the streets. "They're still shut down. You made a wise decision, shutting them down."

"Were they malfunctioning?" He didn't make it obvious to Ebonwumon about the taint. He didn't see a reason to tell her.

"No. They got viral by Daematermon's viruses." Ebonwumon sighed and shook her head. "I don't know what is her purpose . . ."

So she did know that there was a kind of darkness spreading in the Digimon. Koushiro crossed his arms on the railing, pondering. Was this the taint he was sensing from Daematermon? He wouldn't be that surprised, knowing that whenever he sensed the taint, an evil Digimon or a dark feeling has always came. He wondered what was the taint doing in this Machine City. He already knew that from his guesses, Daematermon was from the south, somewhere in Server, and the Machine City was in the south, also. Koushiro wasn't sure if the City was near to the Daemon Mother, but it could make sense that if Daematermon was going to start spreading her viruses, she might start there in the Machine City. At least, the Machine City was all alone in the desert. More vulnerable, that way.

Koushiro's face grew dark as he recalled the face of Daematermon. The young face that could be innocent if it wasn't for the ungodliness around it . . . Why was that every time he thought about her, he felt sympathy for her? He'd grown to hate her for what she'd done to Cleo, but the sympathy was still there, the pity overwhelming the hate. He kept on wondering, but lately, his mind was focused on stopping Daematermon. He had seen a bit of the living darkness eating that poor Village. He had sensed the taint that always made him feel unclean. He had seen what she did to his _kanojo_. He wanted to know how can he stop her. He can't wait until he gets to the Central. He wanted to know _now_.

His black eyes shifted to glance to Ebonwumon. To his surprise, the phoenix was watching back with knowing understanding in her own black eyes. Her beak was slightly opened as if she was smiling, and then she asked, "What do you wish to ask me?"

She might know about Daematermon . . . Koushiro straightened up, facing her. "How much do you know about the First Battle?"

"I know enough to forget it."

"We need to know how the Fallen Children faced Daematermon."

The phoenix ruffled her feathers, spraying flames. "They didn't defeat her."

His voice was stony and yet caustic. "Obtrusive, from what I see."

Her eyes narrowed in mild offense. "Very blunt, Warder."

"I tell what I see," Koushiro said calmly as she nodded in understanding. "The reason I inquire is because Cleo acknowledged me that her Crest of Heart possesses the weapon to defeat Daematermon."

"Who told her?"

"Prophetmon."

Ebonwumon tilted her head. " . . . He did, indeed?" The Warder said nothing, looking steadily. The phoenix continued, "Your Watcher does have the weapon, but she has to find it on her own."

"What kind of weapon?"

She shook her head firmly. "It's not my right to know. She must do it all by herself."

He felt a fierce scowl coming on his face, then he softened it, sighing. He was angry, but he can't stay angry for too long.

"I'm sorry . . ." came the gentle whisper of Ebonwumon.

"I know." Koushiro weakly waved a hand, his voice hardening with emotions, "But right now my Watcher is in a condition that she cannot wake from until a certain time. She's incapable to do anything. I wish to find a possible way to aid her." His eyes then closed. _'I don't want to be helpless to anybody . . . especially to her . . .'_

"But you _are _helping her," Ebonwumon encouraged. "You persist in helping her. You do not give up. It's a great help to her." She then sighed with regret. "I cannot tell you more on the First Battle because I don't know much. I'm the youngest of the Holy Beasts and I wasn't exactly fully informed on the history of the Battle. You might want to ask your mentor."

Koushiro glanced at her with puzzlement. "Mentor?"

"Your mentor, Gennai Unmon."

"Oh, him." Koushiro exhaled. "We have no current knowledge of his location, I fear. Our Digimon are searching for him at this moment."

She sounded surprised and somewhat displeased. "He's hiding from you?"

The redhead was surprised. "I'm not aware if he is. Is he?"

Ebonwumon growled to herself, rolling her eyes upward. "Damn Unmons. So bloody secretive . . . He should've let you know that he's the one who -" Her beak snapped shut.

"What?" Koushiro turned to her, lightly puzzled. "Tell me, Ebonwumon."

Ebonwumon averted her head, muttering, "Damn Unmons . . ."

"Damn you, too, if you will not tell me now!" Koushiro lashed out. Something has snapped inside him. The Digimon have kept important knowledge from him too long. Lack of knowledge often brought him and his friends to the edge of death. He wanted to know. He demanded to know! He had to know!

The phoenix gave him a warning glower. "Careful with what you say to a Holy Beast."

"Some holy beast you are!" Koushiro clenched his fist, fighting the thought of slamming his fist upon the flame-covered machine. He wasn't that surprised that his feelings were running amok. Being provoked and led the wrong way once too often did that to you. "How _could _you keep important information from us that _might _save the world and you won't tell us?!"

Ebonwumon almost shoved her head forward, her flames glowing redder with her annoyance. "I already told you! I know only a bit of the history! It's no need to snap at me!"

"Blah!" Koushiro sneered. "You do know something about Gennai. Information about him that would be effective. Tell me!" He impressed his words by slamming his fist on the railing instead of on her.

"It's not my place to tell!"

"You irresponsible - !"

"That's enough!"

The Warder and the Fire Phoenix halted in their quarrel and turned to see Taichi walking closer, his face contorted with a serious frown. With his swaying tabard, his crossed arms, and dominating stance, he looked exactly like the Master. He stopped in front of them, glaring at them, before fixed his pale tan eyes on Koushiro.

"Warder, you know that this's not the way to gather knowledge."

Koushiro's cheeks reddened, but seeing the firmness in the tan eyes, he kept his mouth shut and averted his head away.

He heard Taichi berating Ebonwumon, "And, Ebonwumon, if you have to say no to us, you can, at least, say it politely."

Koushiro turned back to see Ebonwumon calm at the words, her head tilting to a side. " . . . you sure bear great authority," she said with admiration.

Taichi said nothing of the praise, continuing, "Are you certain that you cannot tell us more about the First Battle?"

"I cannot tell you because I don't know much. But the other Holy Beasts might. Zhuqiaomon had lived through it."

Koushiro quietly snorted. _Lying beast . . ._

Taichi gestured in question toward the Fire Phoenix. "And Gennai is involved in this?"

Ebonwumon nodded. "Yes, but it's his place to tell you, not mine."

"That's not enough information," Koushiro protested.

"Izzy, it's more than enough," Taichi was reassured. "Gennai's involved. He sure knows something that might help us." Then he was at his side, placing a brotherly hand on his shoulder. "It's more than enough."

Koushiro looked down, now feeling ashamed for snapping at Ebonwumon. Taichi was right. It was no need to be so angry at her, even though she appeared lightly obnoxious. She was telling the truth. Heat came up to his cheeks. 

"Warder, I do wish I could help more . . ." Ebonwumon was embarrassed, too.

"No, it's fine," Koushiro managed to simper. "I suppose my concern over Cleo clouds my logical notions. I apologize."

"I apologize, too."

Ebonwumon and Koushiro shuffled their feet, ashamed, under Taichi's firm gaze. Then the Master chuckled and nudged him. "Come on, Izzy. We tried as much as we can. Let's go back."

Koushiro nodded, knowing that having Taichi's crest mended was more important at this moment. With that finished, he was hoping to see the others to see if they find something that might help Cleo out. He hoped that - 

_Beat . . . _

Koushiro froze in his stance, gasping at the dark heartbeat thumping inside him. His skin paled, chilled. It can't be! The taint! He almost recoiled at the crawling taint underneath his skin, wanting to get rid of those revolting itches. His left wrist began to burn horribly, and Koushiro clapped a hand over it, resisting scratching at it in frustration.

"Izzy, what's it?" Taichi said, looking worried.

Koushiro removed his hand from his wrist and gazed back, his own heart pulsating with fear. "The darkness . . . it's here."

Ebonwumon gasped, then turned toward the buildings. "I cannot believe it . . ." She took up to the sky, peering hard southward. "It's spreading!"

"What?" Taichi demanded, leaning on the railing, trying to see.

"Look at the horizon."

With Taichi, Koushiro focused his sights at the horizons. The buildings were too crowded to let them see the horizon, but the tower was high enough for anybody to see above the tops. A glimpse here and there and they noticed a threadlike line of blackness all across the tops. And it was growing . . . Koushiro sensed the heartbeat there. It was strongest . . . He frowned, already wanting to investigate it. He pulled himself upon the railing, balancing perfectly. But he didn't move, now glancing down to his friend. His master.

Taichi saw what he was going to do, and he gave him a commanding nod. "Be careful, Warder."

He felt his power filling his legs with vital energy. It always gave him a feeling of elation when he leaped and ran. He was free with no rules to keep him down. He took a brief crouch for extra length of leaping. Then, he was in the air, feeling the shockwaves coming up his legs as he landed. As he sprung toward the black line, he noticed that the line was budging and swirling, as if it was like hundreds of black slugs slithering and creeping all over each other. He didn't stop at the horizon, though. In the air, he received a sudden wave of foulness from the blackness. Koushiro gagged at the horrible odor. He slumped down in nausea as he landed on the top, dropping to his knees. Bending over, he then lurched out his stomach's rations.

_Foulness . . . so powerful!_ Koushiro flinched at another dry vomit and wiped at his mouth. He then froze, his eyes wide at the violently thumping heartbeat. Before him, black slugs crept a side of the building where he was on. They were only several meters away, but Koushiro tensed, quick to his feet, and stepped back. He could hear them _eating_, chomping and devouring the structure. The building wasn't made of real metal and blocks, but of Binary Data. Where the ceiling has been, there was glimpses of Ones and Zeros floating, the faint buzzing filling the air. One of the slugs sucked the Data in its unseen mouth, and pixels formed, drifting away from the holes. The slugs were eating so fast, one of the walls already gone and the two siding walls half eaten. 

Looking up, Koushiro saw that the buildings ahead were already gone, the remains still eating by the lurching darkness. Even a part of the sky dome was eaten, few black slugs still there, eating the glass like caterpillars chomping on leaves. It reminded him of the poor Village where he and some of his friends has visited. _'The darkness is eating the city!'_ Koushiro realized. _'What's going on?'_

A sudden sucking sound and Koushiro whirled around to see a large slug leaping right for him. Koushiro cast a silver bolt that exploded the slug at contact. He dodged to avoid the bits from touching him. Even though he was human, he was still digital data in the Digiworld, and a touch of the darkness could devour him in minutes. The air began to fill with pixels as the slugs nearly ate the building whole. Koushiro fought to find his balance as the building crumbled underneath his feet, then he quickly leaped off.

He didn't stop there, kept on going to the Tower. He landed right on the railing and reported at Taichi and Ebonwumon, "The darkness is eating the city! We have to get out!"

Ebonwumon had a dark grimace. "It's happening again . . . You two, go ahead. I will stay and wait until you are safe, then I will depart."

Koushiro didn't like it. What if the darkness took her before she could get out? What will happen to Taichi's crest? "But what about Tai's crest? And what if you -"

"Ebonwumon knows what to do," Taichi reassured him. "It's us I worry about."

Koushiro sighed and nodded. He then looked up to the eastern gate where they'd entered, seeing no darkness there. Going by foot seemed too long. "I can take us to the eastern gate by leaping. Up to it?"

Taichi didn't pale at all. "My fear of heights is the least of our worries." He leaped on the railing, waiting until he found his balance. "Get ready."

Koushiro waited until Taichi wrapped his arms around his neck. Keeping his mind on the leaping, Koushiro flew to the nearby building and continued on the way. After leaping upon several buildings, Koushiro had to stop on one of the buildings. It was unstable, already full of holes. The added weight of theirs caused the building to tremble slightly, but then stood still once again. Koushiro frowned at the sight. Just beyond the buildings, there were no more buildings at all. It was odd. It was like the blackness had devoured all the buildings, but stopped eating half through this building before moving on. Koushiro peered down cautiously, wondering if the blackness was hiding or somewhere. He still sensed the heartbeat nearby.

He then heard the hurling from Taichi and he grimaced. The foulness was still here, still strong. Taichi went to his side and slumped down, wiping at his hand with disgust. "What's this awful smell? It made me vomit!"

"It's the scent of the darkness," Koushiro replied. He then looked over to the gate and again frowned. It was too far for him to leap from here. He suspected that the gate was about two or three miles away. He can leap high, just not as far. "I can't leap that far to the gate from here."

Taichi examined the distance and said, "We don't have to. We can go there on foot."

Koushiro hesitated, but it was the only choice here. He only hoped that the darkness wouldn't attack them down there. "Right."

Together, Taichi and Koushiro leaped down through the holey floors until they arrived to the first floor. As they got out, Koushiro was struck by the coming heartbeat. Whirling around, he then saw the coiling darkness flooding the streets already. It was coming so fast! Taichi grasped on his arm and both dashed as fast as they can toward the gate. The darkness wasn't too fast for them, but it was still coming. The safety of the buildings disappeared in the darkness.

The boys skid into a stop, disbelieved. As if it knew what the boys planned for, the darkness was already there, crawling in front of the gate and was slowly slithering toward them. The boys were only a couple of miles away, but the safety of the circle was closing in.

"Perfect!" Taichi hissed, his fists clenched, glaring at the darkness.                                                 

Koushiro's heart beat, trying to find a way to escape. He then looked up and found it. "Tai, I know how to get us out, but it will be risky. You have to trust me."

Taichi grinned. "I told you already. I trust you."

Again, Taichi was on his back, and Koushiro took a minute to pack his power in his legs. '_C'mon, legs, I know I haven't run for a while, but show me what you can!_' Taichi seemed to know what to expect and he silently closed his eyes. The redhead grinned as energy surged through his body. He then screamed in wild delight as he broke into a lightning run. He felt the tightening of the arms as Taichi was pulled by gravity, but Koushiro trusted him that he will hold. Blood rushed in his ears, elation filling him. Too bad that the distance was too short for him to enjoy the speed, but the safety of his friend was more important. As the darkness alarmingly approached, Koushiro simply pushed his feet off the ground. The speed he has building in caused him to leap much higher than he normally could. Air shrieked past him as the dome came for them. Koushiro quickly shielded his face with his arms and summoned his lightning sphere to surround the boys. The lightning dome caused the glass to break and bounce off, protecting the boys . . .

Unfortunately, Koushiro didn't get to think ahead of how they could land without breaking bones. Koushiro's muscles were built to absorb shock, but Taichi's weren't. Instead of landing gently, the boys crashed down on a sand dune and kept on rolling, the shock trembling through their bodies. At the base, they stopped, Taichi's face buried in the sand and Koushiro laying scrawled on his back, staring up to the blue sky. 

He heard shuffling and the sand-speckled face of Taichi came in his vision. He looked rather unkempt and slightly irritated. "Well . . . Planning ahead, aren't we, Izzy?" Koushiro began to laugh as Taichi spitted out mouthfuls of sands. For some reason, he felt the need to reveal his emotions and it did feel good to laugh. Taichi joined in laughing, but then quieted down as he gazed up. "Hey, look . . ."

Koushiro sat up and his heart tightened at the sight of the Machine City, nearly covered with the darkness. Only the very top of the dome was visible, and the darkness was crawling up to it. "Where is Ebonwumon?" Koushiro asked worriedly.

Then he saw a flash of orange light shooting up from the top of the dome. It sparkled red for a moment, then it headed for north. _'Good, Ebonwumon is safe . . .'_ Koushiro then tensed as the Machine City began to groan, crumbling under the pressure of the blackness. As it collapsed, bursts of pixels came out, filing the sky like colorful stars. He was worried that the darkness might come for them, but the darkness also vanished along with the former City. Soon, silence came over the desert. The Machine City was no more.

Koushiro sighed, brushing off sand from his clothing. " . . . I could've gotten the Digimon out of there."

"What good can we do for them?" Taichi admitted. "Even if we got them out, they're still viral. It's better for them to reboot . . ."

The redhead hesitated, then shook his head. "I don't know. . . I believe that once the darkness swallows them, they might not be able to reboot."

The Master was quiet, thinking, then he stood up, a bit unsteadily. "Stop Daematermon," he said with courage. "When we stop her, they will come back."

It wasn't only courage. It was faith he heard in the voice. 

_'Maybe faith is the only way to save the world . . .'_

***

He grinned with pride. Yes, they finally understood. Faith might be the only way to save the world. Even thought it was only a couple of the children who understood, still it was enough. A speckle of faith was always more than enough. Now it was time for him to convince her to find faith she had lost.

"Seijamon, aren't you proud that you sacrificed yourself for your son?"

Her sigh was enough to tell him that she relived her memories again and again. "He was dying, so helpless, and I couldn't help him at all except to give up my data so he can reboot . . ." Her white gaze lowered, in thought. "It was the hardest thing to do because we Unmons revere data. We cannot be fully digital, never complete, so to be this pure in data is desired. Giving up your data is considered the most horrible thing you could do."

His grin softened. "But you did it. For him."

"Because I had to . . . and I loved him as my son . . ." Her face grimaced, and she turned to him, spreading her arms as if was showing the whole world to him. "But I didn't ask for _this_!" Her voice became bitter. "The Elders believed that giving up for the Avenger was so honorable that they wished me to watch over the world as a 'Guardian'." She chuckled dryly. "I don't even know there was a Guardian of the Digiworld! I was only a Hacker!"

He watched the little Guardian that was once an Unmon, a young Hacker who was unfortunate to receive a dream that stated the future of the Digiworld. He couldn't think nor imagine the burden she was given, the fact that she lived as the Digiworld, watching everything, knowing everything, and yet couldn't aid in any possible way. He wondered aloud his thoughts to her, "Then why did you accept it? You could've chose to stay dead . . ."

Her grimace changed into a frightened smile. "I guess I was too afraid to die . . ."

He shook his head. "Maybe not. Maybe you wanted to watch over him . . . and the others, too."

She meekly snickered. "This's so funny. Me, a mere gal, who dreamt the coming of the Saviors and the First Evil, now a Guardian to watch over them all . . . and I couldn't do _anything _to help."

He eyed her for a moment, his voice low. "Yeah, funny how Destiny works out."

She looked mildly surprised at his response, then averted away. Even after thousands of years, she still didn't understand about Destiny.

"But I believe that you live your destiny, not destiny lives you. You could - and can - help."

"Like what?"

"Tell them how to stop Daematermon, for a start."

She reacted with total surprise in her entire body that he thought the Digiworld trembled at his words, as well. Her eyes widened, her clothing went dark as the result. Her voice quavered with dread. "But I can't! If I leave, she will find me."

He stared back, slightly disbelieved at the protest of helping. He thought she would leap at the chance to help the Digidestined. His frown was enough to deepened her dread. 

"So you will not sacrifice yourself again for them?"

***

Under his heavy mantle, Yamato crossed his arms and once again scowled up to the cloudy sky. Much like Destiny Island, Digi Chinatown was covered with snow. It still crackled under his feet even after a day of arriving here with his partner. When the Old Kids departed for their ways to the other Holy Beasts, Yamato and Sora were supposed to stay in Digi Chinatown for Azulongmon. Yamato was still annoyed with the tension of waiting. He knew that Azulongmon will come - he just didn't know a clue to how to find him, and Sora only said that they had to wait with patience - and yet, time was running out! Yamato gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath. Blasted weather. The weather has gone nuts and Yamato didn't like the snow a bit. 

Sighing, ignoring the white breaths, Yamato began one of his walks down the sidewalks. He was also worried about Digi Chinatown. It was empty. He thought that the New Kids mentioned that Digitamamon and Tapirmon were running a restaurant there, the only residents there. Yamato looked forward to see Digitamamon again, despite what he did to him years ago, making him slaving for weeks. Strangely, the Digimon weren't here at all. Even the restaurant looked like the Digimon had departed in a hurry. If it was so, he hoped that whatever the danger was didn't catch up to them.

Yamato huddled for more warmth and walked past the stories, peering inside the empty rooms. He often walked all day, half-expecting to see a Digimon coming out. He was just worried about the Digimon. Shaking his head, Yamato shoved his hands under his arms and headed for a store that was his and Sora's home - a florist. It was small and cozy, settled in between of a shoe store and grocery store. He entered the florist and took a moment to smell in the tangy and sweet scents of flowers. The flowers decorating the shelves and floors were both of Earth's and the Digiworld's.  The flowers smelt different. Earth flowers often smelt sweet, but the Digiworld's flowers had a scent that was mixed with sourness and acidity, like the smell of citrus fruits. So the mingle of sweetness and acidity often watered his eyes. He did like the scents, although. 

He walked over the clean floor - Sora has cleaned it when she found the store, the petals and leaves littering all over the place - and arrived to a small room where he found Sora. It was hard to miss her when her soul scent filled the room where she stayed for hours, the rust-tasting smell with the airiness of a breeze. While Yamato busied himself with long walks, Sora enjoyed working with flowers, making small bouquets and vases of the flora. The red-clad girl was standing near a counter, several flowers laying beside her. She was making yet another bouquet of poppies and a strange species of blue colored, lemon-smelling daisies. He sat down in a chair and gazed quietly at Sora, his mind musing. It was amazing how patient Sora can become while waiting. She was like the picture of total composure.

Sora turned around and noticed Yamato. She smiled, picking up the bouquet. "Hello, Matt."

"Hello."

Sora didn't miss the weariness in his voice. "Are you aright?"

Yamato silently nodded, crossing his arms, leaning back. 

"Still tense?"

"Boring." He reached out to touch one of the dark purple tulips in the vases beside him.

Sora intently watched him, then turned her attention to the flowers. "I'm sure Azulongmon will show up soon, Yama-kun."

"Sooner, the better," Yamato muttered. "I don't like all the waiting."

Silence filled between them momentarily, and then Sora broke it. "Do you feel anything?'

Yamato raised a puzzled eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Do you feel anything dangerous? From the ghosts?"

Yamato was mildly surprised that Sora asked him, and then looked around. He didn't see any wisps that might be recognized as a ghost, or hear any mournful or angry voice. He didn't bother to tell Sora that not all the ghosts he saw were Digimon. What he knew about Digimon ghosts was that they appeared as 'ghosts' after they got deleted, leaving a bit of their data behind. They only looked like ghosts because that's how Yamato see them. Also, the other ghosts were spiritual; they were really the dead, but he couldn't tell if they were Digimon or Humans or even something else. Ghosts almost never show their true appearances to him, often looking like smoke or wisps. Now, he was glad that the ghosts left him alone for a couple of days. He couldn't stand any more wailing from the ghosts, telling of the danger.

"No, I believe not," Yamato answered. "No ghosts here."

"Oh . . . a relief, don't you think?"

"I wouldn't say it that soon, Sora," Yamato warned as he went to lean against the counter beside her, watching her finishing the bouquet. "You would never know."

Sora smiled as she cut a pale green ribbon. "Must we be always cautious?"

"Keeps us prepared."

"It's no use to worry too much."

Saying nothing, Yamato merely nodded, his hand gently picking a flower that he recognized as a lilac. But instead of its sweet smell, he smelt a powerful apple scent. It was surprisingly nice and gentle to his nose. He peered at the color, admired how the light played on the color, making it almost white. He admitted that the color was familiar . . . The color was nice, pretty, and yet fragile in appearance. He didn't realize that he was looking at the flower for a while when Sora's thoughts broke though.

"What're you thinking about?"

Yamato looked up. "Hmm?"

Sora gestured toward the flower in his hand. "You're staring at that flower."

The blonde glanced at the lilac color and smelt the apple scent. The flower was familiar. And he now knew . . . "It reminds me of Cleo."

A sharp silence came over Sora, and he looked up to see the chestnut-haired girl brushing her hands off the dirt, then turned around to him. There was an understanding in her amber eyes, but a solemnity remained underneath. "I don't want to say this again, but Cleo is safe. She is safe with five Ultimates and one Mega on a distant island that few Digimon know about. She is safer than we are." She reached to gingerly pick up the lilac from his hands and put it in the middle of the bouquet she made. It looked lone among the colorful poppies and roses. Yamato stared at it for a moment, already feeling a deep concern for the Watcher, then headed for the door.

"I'm going to check around some more," he said.

"Matt, you did that twice, already," Sora's voice called after.

He answered, "Keeps me prepared," before he departed into the cold. He wondered why he left so suddenly. Maybe the image of Cleo, still so helpless, hurt him somehow and that urged him to find something to do that might help her. He already felt a brotherly protection over her. Shaking his head, he walked down a sidewalk that led toward the snow-covered forest. After a moment, he stopped, thought to see a flash of something nearby. He looked at a bench settling near the sidewalk, but he saw nothing at all. With a puzzled frown, Yamato turned back, but again was stopped by the flash. This time, as he gazed upon the bench, there was a ghost. The misty figure that was floating behind Prophetmon. 

"You again . . ." Yamato was surprised, already looking around for Prophetmon. The misty figure was always seen when Prophetmon was around. But Prophetmon wasn't here, and the misty figure was all alone. Yamato took a careful gaze at it. The misty figure appeared to gain details in appearance that he recognized as Prophetmon's. There were no colors around the ghost, so it was hard to tell if the ghost was a Prophetmon or a Wizardmon, or even a Sorcerymon. He then noticed that the ghost looked solemn, woeful of something. " . . . what's the matter?"

The ghost silently beckoned at him, then drifted to his right, heading toward the forest. Puzzled, but curious, Yamato ran after it. He wondered why the ghost didn't answer him. There must be something that the ghost wanted to show him. Digi Chinatown disappeared behind him as he arrived to the bounds of the forest. He then stopped, noticing something white there. He thought it was just snow, but the white flashes were moving. He soon heard pained pants from there, and he moved closer in caution. It sounded like a Digimon, that was for sure . . .

The Guardian quietly gasped in disbelief as he witnessed a painful sight. An Unimon was limping slowly between the trees, appearing to head for Digi Chinatown. It wasn't the sight of him being weak. It was the sight of him with those . . . those hideous holes. The holes looked much like open wounds, but they weren't normal wounds. They were empty in some way that Yamato only can see. There were no blood. There was no sight of loose or damaged skin. The Unimon had no right leg, the limb missing from the lower joint. A rugged hole was on his back, as big as both of Yamato's fists together. He could see glimpses of computer data, Binary Data, blinking inside the wound. Another hole, much smaller, was on his neck, and Yamato saw a few pixels escaping from the edges of the hole. There was unbearable agony on the Unimon's face, his teeth bared in a clench.

_Dying . . . He's dying . . . _Yamato stepped forward to aid him, but the Unimon noticed him and stopped there, shuddering with fear and fury. He was growling feebly. 

"Take it easy . . ." Yamato soothed, removing his hood from his head, letting the Digimon see his face. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"You . . ." The Unimon staggered backward, but again shivered in pain as more pixels flew away from him. "How do I . . . know if you . . . will not hurt me?" 

"I don't want to," the Guardian said honestly. "You're in pain and I want to help."

Shivers began to violently shake the Unimon. "It's too late . . ."

Although, Yamato saw the pleading in the Unimon's face. He moved closer, holding up helping hands. "Please, let me help."

The Unimon hesitated, uncertain, then suddenly, his other three legs toppled under him. Yamato rushed ahead to the Unimon's side, dreading the sight of the wounds sluggishly growing in size. _He's really dying . . . _Yamato was troubled. He wanted to give comfort to the Unimon, but he wasn't exactly trained for that or even able to do that. Maybe he could use his power? He may not be able to soothe living beings, but he can use his energy to express comfort to them. Holding the snout in his hands, he automatically began to pet the white fur, feeling the sweat soaking the strands. He used his power to enter the Unimon's mind, trying to envision offering comfort. It worked, as he noticed the pain fading from the Unimon's eye mask, the shudders lessening.

"We have a place for you to rest," the Guardian said gently. "All I ask from you is trust."

The Unimon strained to stand up with Yamato's help. He muttered, "What else . . . will I lose beside . . . my life?" But with Yamato's encouragement, the Unimon managed to stand still. Yamato felt like he was leading a horse, the Unimon's snout near to his face, his hands on the fur, gently murmuring words to encourage the injured Digimon. The walk was laborious; the Unimon often paused and took heavy breaths. Yamato's heart darkened with agony of seeing a Digimon injured. He was surprised to feel that way. Before, he was aloof and impassive. He barely felt any pain for anybody, except for his brother, but it soon changed. The pain he often felt was for the innocent Digimon who were wrongly caught in the battle and died unnecessarily. He was often angry and sad for them, wishing to find a way to aid them. He couldn't in time, but now that he found the Unimon, he will work hard to save his life. He can't bear seeing another life disappearing just like this.

As they walked toward the Digi Chinatown, Yamato mentally called for Sora. It wasn't psychic, but a feeling, a stroke of presence. He hoped Sora could feel that. After several moments, Sora showed up, walking down on a sidewalk. "Matt, what - oh, my god!" Her puzzled face abruptly changed into a visage of despair, her hands going to her mouth in fright. The Unimon only looked back, his mind full on stay standing.

Yamato hushed her into silence and spoke, "Sora, listen. I need you to make a bed for him. Quick!"

Sora nodded and guided them to the florist. While Yamato led the Unimon to the back room, Sora worked quick, gathering blankets from a nearby store, and formed a kind of nest in the warmest corner. Sora took a glance at the Unimon's wounds and looked over to Yamato. "Matt - "

"Shh . . ." Yamato shook his head. Not now. Don't talk about the wounds. He needed to rest first. "Find bandages or strips if you can." As Sora departed, Yamato let the Unimon shakily lay down, his legs tucked under his belly. He rested his head on the wall, quietly panting from the labor. "It's alright . . ." Yamato said, kneeling close and rubbing the snout. For some reason, he found comfort in touching the Unimon, comfort for both of them.

The Unimon was too tired to move. "Don't waste your energy on me. It's too late."

"It's not!" Yamato abruptly snarled in anger. "Not when you're with me!" His body began to shake with building fury. How dare anybody do that to an innocent Digimon? Why must they suffer? It wasn't fair! Whoever did evil had to suffer to learn. He'd suffered and he learned. It wasn't right that innocent Digimon have to suffer, too. He didn't realize that his anger of this were building inside him. Maybe it was because of the pain he saw and suffered. Maybe it was because of Cleo, whom he couldn't help right now. Maybe it was just because of the Unimon, who was dying and there was nothing he could do beside offer comfort. All he knew was that he was angry.

Yamato forced to calm down, and then was surprised to find the Unimon resting his head upon the boy's lap. He hesitated, wondering at that.

The Unimon sighed. "I'm so tired . . . "

"Then sleep," the blonde said, resting a hand on the neck, careful of the hole. 

The Unimon appeared to look up to him. "Will you . . . stay with me? While I sleep?"

Emotions dried his throat, and Yamato nodded, blinking his eyes. "Yes, I will." Soon, he heard regular but lightly pained breaths as the Unimon finally slept. He sighed, stroking on the spiky mane. Soon, Sora entered, carrying several torn strips, perhaps from clothes or bed sheets. She knelt down and began to wrap a strip around the missing leg. Her face was contorted with despair.

"What awful wounds . . ." she whispered, then turned to Yamato, "What happened?"

"I didn't get to ask," Yamato answered, watching the hole by the neck growing slightly. _He's dying and he will die in a matter of days._

" . . . You found him like that?"

"The ghost led me to him."

The Seeker glanced back with puzzlement. "A ghost?"

Yamato opened his mouth, and then looked around. He didn't see the misty figure. It must've disappeared when he found the Unimon. "Just a ghost." His hand kept on rubbing the snout.

Sora was staring at the wound on the Unimon's back. She then reached a finger inside the wound. She withdrew it quickly, shaking her head. "Look at all the data . . ."

Yamato didn't want to see the wounds anymore. He closed his eyes, and almost unconsciously, he began to hum a tune. The tune wasn't merry or sad. Just a monotone tune, but it was enough to calm his fury. He felt like he was singing a lullaby at the sleeping Digimon. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder and Sora's voice whispered in his ear, "I will bring you dinner."

The Guardian only stroked on.

***

"Hey . . ."

He was shaken awake, a hand patting on his back, and Yamato opened his grey-blue eyes. His vision met the amber gaze of the Seeker. She was smiling gently and she was carrying a teacup. He smelt sweetness from the liquid. He stretched his limbs, sitting up from sleeping on the floor, and accepted the teacup. It was morning, the sunlight rays filling the room. It could be a beautiful day to Yamato, but his despair and fury were still there. He glanced to the Unimon in the opposite corner. He was awake, eating some food in a bowl. He actually looked more alive than before. Despite the growing wound. The hole on the neck was as big as his fist, and the back wound was getting too big for any possible attempt for the Unimon to survive through. The wound already devoured the half of his back. Yamato could hear a faint buzzing sound from there and realized it as the sound of Binary Data. 

Sighing, Yamato looked up to Sora questioningly. She nodded and said, "You stayed awake all night. Thanks to you, he looks much better."

Yamato said nothing, not knowing how to tell her that the Unimon was dying and there was no way for him to live any longer. He stood up, again stretching, and walked over to the front door. He saw clouds gathering together, colored dark grey and smelt the wetness in the air. "Looks like a storm," he said. "Azulongmon must be coming soon." He went back in and sat by the Unimon, watching as Sora retied the strip around the neck and leg. Yamato thought that it will be unnecessary since the wounds were growing.

The Unimon watched Sora, and then grimaced, saying, "Are you on a mission? You shouldn't stay and waste time on me."

"How could you think that way?" Sora frowned. "We always help Digimon and you clearly need help."

"Plus, our mission is right here, waiting for Azulongmon," Yamato added. 

The Unimon looked astonished at the name of the Air Dragon. "What mission?"

"Stopping the Final Evil."

The Unimon eyed the Guardian and Seeker with new interest, then nodded as if was appealed.

Yamato then heard the air blowing into strong gusts. The door and windows were closed, but he could still hear the howls outside. Sora stood up, smiling. "Azulongmon is here."

"About time," Yamato muttered as Sora headed for the door. He remained with the Unimon, and together, they soon heard the gentle voice of Sora and the booming voice of Azulongmon over the howls. 

"Azulongmon," Sora said with faint disapproval. "What've keeping you so long?"

"I was occupied," Azulongmon said, and Yamato wasn't sure if he sounded sincere or not.

"Azulongmon, we don't have much time left. The sooner, we get to - "

"Of course, Seeker. The sooner, the better, but there's something I need to acknowledge you. Is the Guardian present?"

Yamato was puzzled, but guessed that there must be something important. The Unimon looked unhappy to be alone, but Yamato gave a comforting stroke on his snout and headed outside. Outside, the winds were blowing, flapping at his mantle and her kimono. The winds added the chill to the already winter weather, and so Yamato was forced to pull the mantle around him for warmth. The Air Dragon was floating above, his lengthy body almost unseen, made of air, only acknowledged that it was there by the chains coiling around it. 

"Here I am," Yamato said. 

Azulongmon lowered his head down to his level, his red eyes as huge as the boy's entire body and full of wisdom. He sounded deeply regretful as he spoke, "I know about the Unimon . . . It's truly absurd to keep his hopes high. It's too late for him. He will be deleted soon."

"What?" Yamato blinked, feeling the fury rising in his chest. "You mean there is no cure for him?"

Azulongmon sighed, forming more gusts. "The only cure for him is deletion."

Near him, Sora gasped in horror. Yamato glowered in distress. "What has happened to him?"

"Daematermon has a power to spread her darkness, an awful darkness that eats data."

A bitter scowl appeared on his face. _Daematermon . . . _"A virus," Yamato voiced, his eyes darkened.

"A virus that either eats data off a Digimon, deleting him almost immediately, or driving him into total insanity. Luckily, most of the Digimon regarded it and escaped to safer places before it could touch them."

"Except for the poor Unimon," Sora sadly murmured, glancing toward the florist.

_She will suffer. She will suffer for all the pain she had caused._ Yamato's body again shook, but slightly, as he resisted to scream in wrath. He glared hotly at Azulongmon, who quietly watched back. "No cure," he tried to control the rage in his voice.

"I'm sorry," the Eastern Guardian regretted.

The rage lessened, losing energy. Yamato quietly felt tired. Was his rage really that powerful, strong enough to drain him of energy? He only shook his head, speaking toward Sora without looking at her, "I'll see you later." He entered the florist, not wanting to see the grieved sympathy on Sora's face, not even wanting to hear anybody speak of regret. It was too late. He staggered into the room and stopped at the steady gaze of the Unimon.

"Will I be deleted, Guardian?" the Unimon calmly said. He appeared unruffled.

Yamato stared at him, seeing the wounds growing larger, and he wanted to cry. He didn't understand why, but he wanted to cry. He wanted to cry right here, right now, and let his grief and rage pour out over losing this poor Digimon to death. He didn't want him to die. It wasn't fair. Yamato swallowed to wet his bone-dry throat. "You heard?"

The Unimon nodded, his gaze unwavering. Yamato waited a moment, hearing the howling winds quieted as Azulongmon and Sora departed off to mend her crest. Yamato didn't even try to hope for Sora. What's the use to try and heal the crests again when the Digimon are dying? He knew it was a bad thought, but he couldn't help it. Sighing, he went to kneel by the Unimon. "Are you scared?"

There was a faint fear on the Unimon's face, but there was also peace. "At first, yeah," the Unimon admitted, then shrugged. "But now . . . I just feel safe and strange enough, at peace."

The dying used to get a strange peace just before they died. Yamato didn't understand why they would feel peaceful at the edge of their deaths, even though there was an afterlife after death. He reached to rub on the snout, mainly to get comfort. The Unimon didn't back up, just letting the boy touch him. Yamato had an odd feeling that the Unimon was comforting him instead. He managed to say, "We will stop her, I promise."

"It's no need to promise." The Unimon gave a faint smile. "I know you will."

The white-streaked blonde glanced down to the wounds on the Unimon. A virus . . . a kind of darkness . . . that eats data off a Digimon . . . Yamato again tried to calm his shakes and asked gently, "Unimon, can you tell me what happened to you, if you're feeling up to it?"

"So you can figure how to avoid the eating blackness?" the Unimon voiced, eying him. Yamato didn't get to answer. The Unimon braced and shuddered and more pixels dissolved from the wounds. The Guardian's heart clenched, seeing that the pixels were dissolving at a faster pace. _He will die soon . . ._ Grimacing, Yamato struggled out his mantle and blanketed it over the back wound. Coolness bit on his bare arms and chest, but he ignored it.

"But you'll get cold!" the Unimon protested, but Yamato only smiled coolly. He was cold, but feeling the cold was nothing compared to the pain he had now in his stomach, tightening it. The Unimon looked mildly surprised at the reaction, then lowered his head. Finally, he spoke of his encounter with the 'eating blackness'. " . . . I was wandering through a forest, near here, with three of my friends. One of my friends thought she felt something funny, like gnawing, but we didn't believe her." The Unimon dryly chuckled. "Should've listened to her. A day later, the blackness came for us out of nowhere and swallowed us whole. It was so . . . cold, so filthy . . ." He shuddered and it was out of the memory. "Felt like I was contaminated."

Yamato could guess that his friends were already deleted by the time he found the Unimon. Nevertheless, he asked, "What happened to the rest?"

The Unimon gave him a bitter scowl. "Don't you guess? They are dead. Two of them were deleted before my eyes, gone insane, and we, she and I, were left behind with these holes. My wounds were benign, but she was deleted in hours. All of this happened within a couple of days."

Yamato was silent, uncomfortably aware of the increasing bitterness in his chest and stomach. God, he wanted to cry. He didn't know what to do. There was nothing for him to do for the Unimon. He felt so helpless . . . He felt his eyes wetting, and he didn't even try to wipe them. Then he was startled once again as the Unimon rested his head upon his lap. The weight, the strange peace on the Unimon's face further misted his eyes.

"Please stay with me . . ." the Unimon's voice was soft. ". . . Until I get deleted."

Yamato finally wiped his eyes, feeling the coolness on his cheeks. _Not now. Don't cry. Don't let him see you. You must be strong for him. You must stay strong even after he . . . dies. _Yamato focused on stroking the snout until the Unimon fell asleep. Then he felt a cool touch, and he knew it wasn't the weather. Looking up, he then saw a new ghost. A ghost that looked much like an Unimon. It looked much alike to the Unimon, except that it had the feminine figure. It was very clear in detail, and Yamato knew that it meant the Unimon had died recently. The memory of her was recent, still clear. She silently stomped over to the sleeping Unimon and nudged him with her snout. It passed through the flesh.

_'She'll never get rebooted,' _Yamato thought with grief. _'She's a ghost.'_

The female Unimon appeared saddened when she couldn't touch her friend, then turned to look at Yamato. He knew what she was asking for.

_'I will stay with him until he joins you,' _the Guardian mentally spoke.

She seemed satisfied and she nodded in thanks before she faded in midair. A sorrowful tune began to hum in the air, voiced by the Guardian as he watched over the dying Digimon, his grief and fury building inside.

Unnoticed, the misty figure floated from a distance inside the room. He watched the last of the pixels dissolving as the Unimon was deleted. He spent a few minutes listening to the Guardian weeping to himself. He reached to touch the wet cheek in hopes that he could comfort him, but his hand went through flesh. Yamato never noticed, too deep in his grief. The misty figure sighed and vanished out of sight.

***

"I hate it when you get so persistent, soul mate."

He looked up at her and was surprised to see the genuine smile on her face. After his troubles of wounding her about sacrifices, she departed to spend time alone, obviously to think about it. He was worried that he'd offended her, but he didn't sense any anger nor fright toward her. He assumed that she was struggling with this dread for years, not knowing what to do with it, how to ease it. 

Her smile triggered a smile on his face. "What have I done this time?"

"Talked me into sacrificing myself for the children."

His smile faded and he frowned with unease. "This's a delicate issue, and I didn't persuade you into doing it."

"No, but you did persuade me into thinking about doing it," she said, her grin widening. 

He chuckled. "So this was all my fault?" 

She sat beside him, her pretty face close to his. "Yes, I'm glad it is because only you could convince me into doing something."

"What made you think about it?"

"The way you spoke of faith. Faith isn't all about believing in yourself, but believing into others, as well. If I believe that they can stop Daematermon, then my faith will help them. They can't do it alone . . ."

Something in her voice halted him from saying any more. He heard pain in her voice. When her eyes looked up to him, he was shocked to see profound pain in the whiteness. Was it something wrong with her . . . ? Almost involuntarily, his black eyes shifted downward to her robed legs. He was horrified to see emptiness there. There was some kind of hole where her right calf was, seen through the ripped robe. The darkness. It was eating the Digiworld right now, and since she shared the same life as the Digiworld, the darkness was eating her, too. Slowly, he could see tiny pixels drifting away from her leg. The pain deepened in her eyes.

"Oh, Seijamon . . ." He pulled her into his embrace, wishing with all his heart and faith that he could protect her from the hunger of Daematermon, but he knew he couldn't. 

Her arms tightened around his neck and he heard the soft voice in his ear. "I'm afraid, Yukio, but I can't give up. The end is too close for me to give up. I will let the children know about my secret and . . . pray for the future."

The idea of her being gone forever, out of his arms, made Oikawa frightened.

To be continued . . . 


End file.
